Lily and JamesThe Prophesy
by SerinaParker
Summary: This is the story of Lily and James' final battle against the Dark Lord and their struggle to protect their only child. This story is COMPLETE!
1. Albus

Chapter 1: Albus

Lily strolled hand in hand with James through the Hogwarts grounds. They hadn't been there since they graduated and were more than a bit surprised when they received an urgent Owl from Dumbledore requesting their immediate attendance.

James released Lily's hand from his and wrapped a protective arm around her waist, pulling her closer as the gargantuan castle loomed into view. Light spilled from the Great Hall and a rush of warmth tickled them as they ascended the steps.

The castle was abuzz with action; students had arrived for the new school year just weeks previous and it seemed as though there wasn't a problem in the world. Lily and James knew differently, however. They were part of a secret organisation, the Order of the Phoenix, formed to thwart Lord Voldemort's rise to power. Outside of the shielded castle walls, a war was brewing and Voldemort was growing stronger with each passing day. The Order of the Phoenix was greatly outnumbered by Voldemort's Death Eaters and casualties were growing, both Magical and Muggle.

James looked longingly into the Great Hall. Life was so much simpler when he went to school here. The only evil they had to worry about was Sirius's demented relations and that slimy git, Snape, and the occasional overbearing amount of homework. James sighed heavily as Lily pulled him in the direction of the staircase leading to Professor Dumbledore's office.

"Wait," James said, grinning, "I know a short-cut!"

James dragged her towards a suit of armour under the staircase, pulled back a tapestry and kissed her fleetingly. Lily giggled and pulled away.

"Oh you haven't changed one bit, Potter," she exclaimed, hitting him lightly on the chest.

James surveyed her lovingly. Her deep, emerald green eyes shimmered – they hadn't changed once since they were kids. She bit her lip on his prolonged gaze before he drew her closer and pressed his lips against hers.

Lily pulled back again, shaking a disciplinary finger at her childish husband. 

"You are going to make us late, young man," she chided before grabbing his hand and leading him up the dark corridor. Within moments, they opened a door concealed by a large portrait and emerged in front of Dumbledore's office.

"Sherbet Lemon," James said as the Gargoyle sprang to life. They stood on the steps and were led to the door of Dumbledore's office, which was opened instantly on their arrival by Professor McGonagall. Her expression was grim as she signaled them inside.

"Albus will be with you in a moment," she said before disappearing into his study. Lily followed Professor McGonagall as far as Dumbledore's desk and stood there, waiting.

James had not yet followed Lily. He was gazing in awe at the office. He, of course, had been here many times in his youth, but never could understand its constant amber glow, its comfortable silence, and the soothing sounds of retired headmasters snoozing in their frames. His gaze rested on Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet phoenix. His plumage was full and healthy, and James walked wistfully towards him. He stroked the bird's feathers gently and the phoenix uttered a few mournful notes in response.

James, suddenly being drawn back to earth as though his head had been ducked in a bucket of icy water, retreated his hand from the bird. A little perturbed, he walked slowly to where his wife stood, his eyes only leaving Fawkes when he was safely by her side.

Lily and James exchanged worried glances. They felt like children who had been very bold, and Dumbledore's prolonged absence only strengthened this feeling. The only information that the Owl brought was the password for the Office, which was a risk in itself, James had pointed out.

Finally, Dumbledore emerged from his study. Lily's face dropped when she saw him – his face was gaunt and pale, he seemed to have aged 20 years since they last saw him. His expression was sombre and he did not smile at them. He simply conjured up two chairs for Lily and James, and signaled that they should sit down.

James heartbeat was unpleasantly fast in his chest and Lily had lost all colour in her face. Dumbledore took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before sighing loudly and lifting his head up to face them.

"Thank you for coming here so quickly," Dumbledore said, his voice croaking slightly, "I am truly sorry for calling you forth from your comfortable home. I am glad you could find your way here safely. I hope it has not been an inconvenience."

"I have called you here today to discuss secret Order business. I could not speak with you at the previous meeting for danger of being overheard. Although I request utmost trust within the Order, I fear we have enemies lying in our midst," Dumbledore sighed heavily and ran a thin hand down his long, white beard.

McGonagall stood behind the Professor looking determinedly ahead, her face rigid.

After a brief pause, James cleared his throat.

"Professor…," he began.

"Please, James, you are no longer in school here. Formal titles are not necessary. We are partners in the movement against Voldemort together and have moved past such authoritarian labels. Please, call me Albus," he said, with a short smile, one that did not meet his usually twinkling eyes.

"Alright, Albus," James continued warily, "Voldemort has been extraordinarily quiet these past few weeks. Has something happened that we should know about? Is that why we are here?"

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and surveyed him quietly. He closed his eyes briefly and seemed to be debating the best way of delivering such news. He opened his eyes slowly and observed the young people sitting in front of him. Lily, whose sparkling eyes now shimmered with the beginnings of tears. And James. James, who had been such a little prankster, only to be tamed by Lily.

Dumbledore remembered them, not long ago, as students in Gryffindor house. His eyes rested on James. Dumbledore felt responsible for this young man, in particular. It had been he, of course, who had convinced him to join the Order in the first place.

James swallowed hard. He never thought twenty minutes ago that Dumbledore would look so solemnly at them, as though the world had stopped turning and life was over. 

Lily started to shake subconsciously and her eyes pleaded with Dumbledore to continue. At last, he obliged.

"There has been a prophecy made about the fall of Voldemort," he said simply.

They suddenly lit up and looked at each other disbelievingly.

"You're not serious," James exclaimed, not wishing to get too excited. Spotting the look on Dumbledore's face, James furrowed his eyebrows. This was good news. Why on earth did Dumbledore still look so upset?

Lily answered her husband's unasked question. "There is more, isn't there," she said, her eyes searching the old man's face.

"Alas, yes. I met with a young witch just at the end of the summer, applying for a job as the new Divination Professor here at Hogwarts. At first I believed her to be a fraud; after all, there are so few real Seers left today. But as I turned to leave, she made a real prophecy." 

Lily was tingling all over and her mouth was growing drier. She urged the Professor to continue and he obliged.

"You must forgive me for not informing you of this event until now but I had to be certain of whom to inform. It could have applied to either you, or another, but prior circumstances have led me to you."

On finishing this statement, his eyes lingered on James and Lily, who let out a small gasp, before he continued. James grasped Lily's hand and looked her directly in the eye. He whispered quietly, so that no one, even in the still silence of Dumbledore's office, could hear, "We will do whatever we can, whatever it is, for Harry." He kissed her gently on the forehead as a single tear escaped her eye.

Dumbledore had now risen and was walking towards a press. Out of this he lifted a stone basin with runes engraved into it. He placed it on his desk and placed the tip of his wand to his temple, extracting a long, silvery substance from his head.

"If you will look into my Pensieve, you will see."

The two of them leaned closer and looked apprehensively into Dumbledore's memory. They saw a young witch sitting opposite Dumbledore, pleading with him for another chance. 

"I am sorry, Sibyl," he said, rising to turn away. He was stopped by a sudden, ragged intake of breath. When he turned, he saw Sibyl had gone into a trance.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

Lily slumped back into her seat and broke down into anguished tears. James stood glowering at the image in the Pensieve and continued to stare after the image faded away, leaving him staring at a mass of swirling grey.

He sat down stiffly and Lily threw herself in his arms. James, however, did not want to cry. He switched his glare to Dumbledore, who looked prepared for the worst.

"Explain this. Now," he growled, his voice shaking with suppressed rage, "How do you know this even applies to us?"

"That, James, is the reason it took me so long to inform you," said Dumbledore, "As I am sure you can remember, you have fought valiantly for the Order three times and come out with only minor injuries while inflicting great losses for Voldemort's army. And your son was born at the end of July."

"So were lots of children! That doesn't mean it is our son," James wasn't trying to hide his anger now, and was shouting loudly at this man who stood before him, with a manner of teaching a bold child that two plus two equals four.

"Indeed, I had considered the Longbottoms, only for one detail – Voldemort will mark this child as his equal," he stated simply.

Lily looked up from her husband's shoulder and stared resolutely at Dumbledore from her watery eyes. "And what does that mean, exactly," she asked, her voice thick with tears.

"Frank and Alice were both born into pure-blood Wizarding families. Lily, as you were born into a Muggle family, I believe that Voldemort will relate more with Harry, as they are both half-bloods."

Lily nodded in understanding, but quiet tears still rolled gently down her face. She looked at her hard-faced husband but he did not return her stare. He was now looking at Professor McGonagall, who had stayed quiet throughout these revelations. She withered slightly under his stare, uncharacteristic for her. She coerced Dumbledore to elaborate before James cursed them into oblivion.

"I am afraid there is more I need to tell you," he said, in a voice smaller than they were used to, "A servant of Lord Voldemort's was present that day and overheard the beginning of the Prophecy. Voldemort has started the search for Harry Potter."

Lily stared incredulously at him. Her mournful tears were replaced by red-hot fury, the likes of which no one in that room had ever seen.

"He is searching for my SON," she screamed, standing up forcefully and knocking over her chair in the process, "MY BABY? How on earth do you think he has the power to over throw the Dark Lord? How is he ever going to get the chance to defend himself!"

"What does this mean, Albus," he spat, with particular emphasis on his name, "Our son has either to kill or be killed! He is barely one year old! He can't even talk, let alone say an incantation to protect himself!"

The young couple stood before their former educators, magical energy radiating from them. They were both seething in anger, and any doubts of them being powerful Wizards were flouted.

"There is still hope," Dumbledore said, "The Fidelius Charm."

James looked at him, befuddled, but realisation dawned on Lily's face.

"Of course…," she started, "But, well, we would have to go into hiding."

Still confused, James ordered that somebody better explain.

"The Fidelius Charm is a very powerful charm," McGonagall said, offering information for the first time that night, "A secret is stored within one person, and only that person can disclose the secret. What Dumbledore is suggesting is that the charm be placed on your home in Godric's Hollow. Voldemort could be looking in your living room window and not see a thing."

On this information, James relaxed a little bit. He sat down slowly and Lily followed suit.

"James, I feel somehow responsible for this turn of events," said Dumbledore sadly, "Had I not insisted on you entering the Order, you might not have found yourself in this mess. I would personally like to offer to be your secret keeper." 

James, feeling guilty for his sudden outburst on the innocent man, declined his offer, "If you hadn't insisted on my joining the Order, I could already be dead."

He turned to face Lily. "How about Sirius? He is like a brother to me. I trust him more than anyone in the world. Well, next to you, that is," he added as an afterthought, grinning sheepishly at Lily.

"If it is alright with Sirius, it's alright with me," She said, slightly recovering from the Prophecy.

"Lily, I shall journey to your home in Godric's Hollow tomorrow to administer the charm," Dumbledore announced, as though he were just popping around for a cup of tea.

"Yes, well, we had better be going home. No doubt Sirius still has Harry wide awake and we will have some trouble getting him to sleep," Lily answered, as though theirs was a casual visit. She stood up and James did the same, and Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore followed them to the door.

"I am so very sorry to be the bearer of such bad news," Dumbledore said, placing an aged hand on James shoulder. They both turned to face him and apologized for their rash outburst of emotions.

"Better late than never," Lily added, in a cheerful voice, which she didn't recognise as her own, "If you hadn't told us, Voldemort would have turned up and we wouldn't have been prepared…" Her voice trailed off, as her imagination traveled to a place of horrible circumstances.

A little while later, James and Lily walked in silence from Hogwarts. Once at the entrance to Hogsmeade, they apparated into their home in Godric's Hollow. Sirius was a little startled by their sudden appearance, but smiled warmly at them nonetheless.

Lily grabbed Harry from Sirius's arms and hugged him tightly, crying thick, heavy tears. James pulled her into his chest and held them both in his arms, strong and stony faced.

"Bloody Hell! What happened to you? Surely Dumbledore can't give detention now we have graduated," Sirius asked in an attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere.


	2. Peter

Chapter 2: Peter

Sirius paced the Potters' living room, his usually good-looking face strained with fear and anger. His eyes showed the first sign of tears, but not a single drop trickled from his eye. He would not give the Dark Lord that satisfaction. He stopped pacing for a moment to look at the couple sitting before him, and the baby sleeping soundly in his mother's arms. On looking at young Harry, a lump formed in Sirius's throat. He reached out to Lily, and she reluctantly passed her son into his arms. It was evident to everyone who knew them how much Sirius loved Harry. He loved him as though he was his own son, and now, holding him in his arms, he looked every bit the caring father.

Not lifting his eyes from Harry's face, Sirius broke the silence with a raspy voice. "I'll do it. Of course I will."

"Thanks, Sirius," Lily said, quietly, looking at him from tearful eyes.

James half-smiled at his best friend. He hadn't the energy, or joy, to smile sincerely. Though he knew he could trust Sirius, he couldn't help thinking that they couldn't stay in hiding forever, and that his only baby boy would one day be sent out to destroy the darkest and most evil Wizard that ever lived. At least his place at Hogwarts was held for him, and would have Albus Dumbledore presiding over him.

Sirius noticed James grim expression. He looked so utterly depressed.

"I'll be on your side, James, you know I will," he said, quietly.

James jerked his head up and looked Sirius in the eye, searching him. He had been his best friend all through school, and was like an adopted brother to him. When his parents passed away, Sirius was just as upset as he was, and welcome at their home in Godric's Hollow, where he and Lily now lived.

"I know that, brother," he said sincerely, "We trust you above all others. You were the first name we thought of. I am just so worried, no matter how long we put this off, it will happen one day. Harry will be alone when he fights the Dark Lord. We cannot help him there. Only he can bring about the fall of Voldemort."

"He wont be alone. Not really. We can teach him all we know, and he will be prepared. And he will be the better Wizard, because he will fight for the side of good, not evil," Sirius said.

"You sound like a comic book character," James said, with a swift laugh.

Lily nodded in agreement, smiling at James. Sometimes it felt like they were reading each other's thoughts. Her smile soon faded from her face, and when she spoke, her voice shook.

"It's not like we can keep him wrapped up in cotton wool forever, though," she said with a heavy sigh, "He will have to leave this house. Even if we lock him up until he is ready for Hogwarts, he will have to leave here so he can go to Kings Cross. And then what?"

"It isn't Voldemort's style to jump out from the shadows," Sirius said, "He would have to be clever about it, there would have to be some form of…"

"Dignity?" James prompted, "If we keep him locked up here for years, I'm certain that Voldemort will become too impatient to think of style. He will be hell bent on destroying the competition."

Lily sniffed, and she was once again on the brink of tears. Usually a very ferocious, typical redhead woman, it was alarming to see her so upset for so long. Then, this was her only child they were talking about.

James embraced her, and kissed her forehead. He knew how it comforted her to have him close-by at times like these.

"It's been a long day. We should get some rest," he muttered to her, his face pressed against hers. She breathed heavily, causing her body to shudder, and squeezed James before letting him go.

"You're right," she said, standing in the process and prying Harry from Sirius's arms "I'll go ahead and put this little tyke down," She kissed Sirius on the cheek and smiled at him. "And to think, I used to hate you. Now you are saving my little boy. Thank you Sirius. I really appreciate this more than you will ever understand."

Sirius knew that Lily had grown out of her hatred of 'the marauders,' but, none the less, it felt good to be reminded that he was welcome here. She turned and kissed James quickly before descending the staircase to their room.

Sirius resumed Lily's seat, and looked at James. No matter how distraught he was about the situation, he knew that James felt a million times worse. He barely recognised this wreck of a man sat before him. His skin had lost all colour, and his usually bright eyes were dull. His typically messy hair now had pulled out all the stops, and stuck out at various angles, no doubt from him running his hands through his hair all night with stress. Now, with Lily out of sight, Sirius put his arm around his best friends shoulder, as a single tear rolled down his lifeless face.

Not wanting to leave his distraught wife alone for long, James left Sirius and climbed the stairs slowly. Upon entering, he saw that Harry was sound asleep in his cot beside them. Lily was lying with her face in the pillow, angry sobs pulsating through her body. Her head throbbed from crying and her entire body ached. James laid down beside her and placed his hand on her back. She turned her face away from his, utterly disgusted with herself. James had been able to keep a brave face for her, why couldn't she do the same? He obviously felt just as badly as she did.

James wasn't shocked when Lily turned away, he didn't take it personally. He turned on his side and pulled her towards him, wrapping an arm around her waist. He breathed in her scent and kissed her neck, resting his head there. Lily let out one last shuddering cry, and placed her hand on top of James', glad that she at least had him to lean on. She felt his warm breath on her neck, and felt instantly calmer. No words were needed between them - they had an understanding greater than words could achieve. She turned to face James and buried her head in his chest, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart, while he played with her hair until sleep took them over.

Sirius trudged up the stairs not long after James and entered his room. This had been his room since he left home to live with the Potters, and James requested that he stay, even after he married.

He rested his head on the pillow, eyes staring blankly ahead. He would be the Potters secret keeper. It seemed to him that he was the obvious choice.

_'Yeah, maybe a bit too obvious'_

Sirius was shocked by this unfamiliar voice in his head, and the thought it brought with it – Voldemort knew who they were from the fights between Death Eaters and the Order, what if he knew?

_'So what if he knew. It's not like you would tell him anyway'_

"That's true," Sirius thought to himself, closing his eyes to welcome sleep.

_'Veritaserum. He could force you, you know…'_

Sirius sat bolt upright in bed. It was so simple! Of course, he would have access to this potion; he had many great Potioners at his disposal within his Dark Army. How could he overlook this? One stupid step could cost the Potters all they have, and Harry's life…

Sirius's breathing had become ragged, and he was sweating profusely. As much as he wanted to help his best friends, he knew that there was no use trying to hide this information if he was forced to take Veritaserum. It would be out of his control. Did he really want to be the one responsible for the demise of the Potters?

He looked towards his bedroom door. He should walk right over to them this instant and tell them he can't do it. He threw his legs over the side of his bed before that little voice interrupted him again.

_'Wouldn't want to do that. Remember what happened the last time you barged in on them in the middle of the night?'_

Sirius winced. He loved Lily and James, but never again did he want to relive what he had seen that night. With a shudder, he climbed back into bed, and sat up against the headboard. He felt as though his heart had fallen all the way to his stomach. He wished he could do something to help   
them.

"Explore your options," he thought to himself, "Who else could do it? Remus, perhaps?"

_'Ahh yes, Remus Lupin, your other best friend. What kind of idiot are you? He is in exactly the same boat as you! Voldemort knows him! He knows you to be close friends! Think, you fool, who would he not suspect? Who, out of all of your friends, is the most unlikely choice?'_

After much thought and deliberation, the truth finally dawned on Sirius. 

"Peter…" he said out loud.

_'There you go. I knew you could do it. Rest now, and tell the Potters tomorrow. The Dark Lord will never suspect him. It's the perfect plan…'_

Sirius smiled to himself. It really was a perfect plan. Who would ever suspect poor, dithering, whimpering, clumsy Peter Pettigrew? He could barely say his own name, never mind disclosing a secret.

Sirius lay back on his bed, smiling at his own genius. But was it his idea? He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, dreaming of a young boy with red hair, and a pet rat, and a mad-mans voice repeating "He's at Hogwarts," When Sirius woke, the dream disappeared, forgotten.

"Peter!" Lily said, a little higher than she had meant to. Peter Pettigrew was now sitting in the Potters living room, while she, Sirius and James were in the kitchen discussing this sudden turn of events. Sirius hushed her and threw her a warning look.

"Yes, Peter!" he whispered through gritted teeth, putting his hands unnecessarily over Harry's ears, as if to protect him from this information.

"You expect us to place Peter Pettigrew in the same level of trust as we place you?"

Sirius smiled at her fondly, any compliments she gave he received with appreciation, as only a short few years ago she thought him too arrogant to waste breath on.

"Obviously, Lily, darling, I do not expect you to give Wormtail the same amount of trust you give me," Sirius said smoothly, "I just think it would be a good diversionary tactic to use young Pettigrew instead of me. Show the Dark Lord he isn't the only one who can play mind games"

Lily still looked as though she had been slapped in the face, but a wicked grin was spreading across James' face. He had the same look on his face as he did when he was planning another one of his wild, reckless adventures with the Marauders. Noticing this, Lily shook her head and looked at the ground, so the boys wouldn't see her smiling to herself.

"This might just work, Padfoot!" James said, practically squealing with delight. "Your evil genius has never ceased to amaze me!"

Lily turned and walked towards the kitchen window. She knew it meant trouble when that bunch started going by their nicknames.

"I knew you'd appreciate it, Prongs," Sirius said, mimicking James' wicked grin. "I am sorry if I was a little rash in inviting him over here without informing you first, but I knew that you would agree, and that Dumbledore is on his way. Time is of the essence!" he said, while walking towards Lily. They were closing in on her. She turned to find herself face to face with the same two wild boys she thought she had left behind in Hogwarts. These boys she didn't trust with her son, and she took him from Sirius's arms. Despite herself, she actually agreed with Sirius. His plan did make sense. Voldemort would be expecting them to use Sirius, failing that, Remus, but never Peter! Sure, he hung around with them in school, but that was mainly out of pity.

Lily, personally, never liked him. He was such a leech on James. Plus there was something rather unnerving about his Animagus form being a rat…

She opened her mouth to answer, but was distracted by an owl flying directly through their open kitchen window. A little startled, Lily passed Harry into James' arms, removed the letter from the owl and studied the wax seal.

"It's from Hogwarts," she said. She looked from Sirius to James with her eyebrows furrowed. They had been expecting Dumbledore to show up in person to perform the charm.

Lily exhaled loudly and attempted to rip open the letter, but it was as though it was made from wood, and could not be opened by hand. 

"Official Order business it is," she muttered while reaching for her wand, and muttering a lengthy incantation. Finally, the envelope dissolved, and a transparent model of Dumbledore stood in front of them. He looked slightly panicky, although for Dumbledore, this was hard to tell.

"There has been a mass Muggle killing in Leeds. There are at least fifty people assumed dead," he said in a rushed voice, "Lily, I entrust you to perform the charm. You can do it. You know how. I will come to your place of residence when I return from Leeds, if I can find it, that is"

He winked at the three of them, and like the envelope, dissolved into thin air.

Lily pursed her lips and turned on her heel. Sirius and James watched her walk purposefully towards the bookshelf in the living room. Peter looked up at her as she entered, but didn't say anything. Lily rather thought that he was afraid of women. "Another area of life he failed in," she thought to herself.

Finding the book she was looking for, she threw it down on the writing desk and starting flicking urgently through the dusty pages.

"Lily…" James started, unsure of himself.

"James?" Lily answered, barely opening her mouth.

"Er…. You aren't really thinking of doing this spell yourself, are you?" he said quickly.

Sirius hissed in a deep breath behind him, and Lily turned so quickly she could have done herself an injury.

"What would you suggest, Potter?" she spat, "Wait until Voldemort is finished killing poor innocent people so Dumbledore can have a free minute to pop by and administer the charm? Every minute we wait is a minute wasted, James. He could be getting closer to Harry. So to answer your question, darling, yes. I am going to do this spell myself."

On these words, Peter whimpered audibly, only stopped when Sirius threw him a blazing look.

James shrunk under Lily's stern glare, and hung his head. He rocked Harry in his arms, and busied himself looking into his sons eyes, identical to his mothers. Pity his mother's eyes were so filled with fury right now. 

"No more questions? Good," Lily said. Sirius snorted loudly. Lily could have given McGonagall a run for her money if she had taken up teaching instead of opting to be a curse breaker.

Having found the page she was looking for, Lily rounded on Peter, brandishing her wand at him. He squeaked, rather like the rat he is, until all three of them told him to shut his mouth.

"I promise this wont hurt a bit," Lily said in a falsely sweet tone. Peter shrunk back into the couch and closed his watery eyes tightly, with a pained expression on his face. Sirius grabbed him by his collar and forced him upright, appalled by his behaviour.

"What are you, a man or a mouse?" he said in a disgusted tone.

"Rat, actually," James muttered, forcing laughter out of Sirius. Harry giggled, and it seemed as though he understood the joke. "That's my boy…"

Lily threw them a silencing look, as she need a lot of concentration for this spell. One mispronounced word could cause Peter here to sprout another hand out of his chest.

Lily stood silently, breathing heavily with her eyes closed. She muttered a few choice words under her breath, with her arms crossed across her chest and her wand pointing upwards. The longer she did this, the others noticed she radiated power, and as from nowhere, a strong gust of wind rippled through her hair. When she opened her eyes, she was barely recognisable. Her iris was almost completely engulfed by her pupil, and they sparkled with energy. The voice that escaped her lips was not her own, and when she lifted her hand, Peter was lifted from his feet. Had he been conscious of this events, he would have been screaming with fear, but the instant Lily looked at him, he slipped into a deep trance.

"Prôtectîo Dominus! Electo Corpus Marsi in Patronus Aeditimus Mysta!"

James and Sirius exchanged nervous glances at each other. Lily had invoked dark magic to cast this spell, and neither of them recognised it, even though, apparently, the Fidelius Charm was N.E.W.T level. Lily repeated this incantation multiple times, each time with Peter turning dangerously overhead. Sirius and James didn't dare interrupt her for fear the spell would take a terrible turn.

All of a sudden, Lily's body shook violently, and Peter came crashing down from the ceiling. He climbed to his feet with a bemused look upon his face, as though he didn't know how he had gotten onto the floor. Sirius took Harry from James' arms, and signalled that he should go to her.

James rushed to Lily's side, and picked up her frail form from the ground. She grinned at him feebly, and he was glad to see those familiar green eyes looking up at him.

"Did it work?" she asked quietly.

"Only one way to find out," Sirius said, turning to Peter, "tell me where the Potters live"

"N.. number s.. s.. Seven, Godric's Hollow," he stammered.

Sirius frowned at him. "Next time, don't tell anyone where they live!"

"No this is good," Lily said, turning to Sirius, "Tell me where the Potters live"

"N…. n….." Sirius attempted. He couldn't say the words. They were forming in his mouth, but every time he tried to utter them, his tongue seized up and he started stuttering. Adamant to continue trying, Sirius found that his entire mouth felt as though it was stuffed with cotton wool, and he was choking on his own words.

"That's enough, Padfoot," James warned.

Sirius relented, and ran his tongue over his teeth. His mouth felt tingly, almost like his mouth had fallen asleep.

Peter was smiling broadly, from what the others thought was pride in their confidence in him.

"Can't stay, I'm afraid," he said, even though nobody invited him to, "I have important business to attend to. I have company staying with me."

He scurried around the living room, picking up his scattered belongings that had fallen from his pockets while he had been suspended above the others.

James still had Lily in his arms and lifted her to a seat by the hearth. He brushed a few stray hairs from her forehead and observed her lovingly.

"Did you hurt yourself when you fell, darling?" he murmured to her.

"I'm fine, just a little tired, that spell took a lot out of me," she said in barely a whisper.

James smiled at her, and pointed his wand towards the fireplace to start a fire.

Moments before, however, an owl flew down the chimney place and landed on Lily's arm. On its leg was another letter from Dumbledore. This one, however, was not cryptic like the last.

Lily, I trust that all went well. Extra precautions need to be taken, just in case. Page One hundred and ninety-four. You will see. A.P.W.B.D

James looked quizzically at his wife, but saw that she understood exactly what this letter had meant. Still confused, he kissed Lily on the forehead and stood up. Sirius had been grinning at his friends from his favourite seat by the fire. James sat beside Sirius, and ran his hands through his unruly hair. They smiled at each other - they felt safe.

Lily on the other hand was slightly uneasy. She stood up gingerly and walked over to the book she had just consulted for the Fidelius Charm. She flicked through the pages and found what she was looking for. A protection spell. She gasped quietly when she saw that in order for the spell to take effect, she would have to die.

"It's just a precaution," she told herself. She left the book open on that page, and stepped away from the book. If she was ever in the situation where it was her life or Harry's, she knew what she was going to do. She nodded to herself, sealing herself to her personal pact. It would be unlikely that she would ever have to resort to this. "Only a precaution," she repeated.

Peter Pettigrew scampered out of view from the Potters residence, and transformed into his Animagus form. He was practically skipping with glee - his dedication to the Dark Lord was going to be proven, he would be honoured above all other Death Eaters. There was no denying his loyalty now. He had used the Imperius Curse to take advantage of the feeble mind of Sirius Black. He amused himself with how easy it was to convince him of his choice. He always had been more interested in his own well - being than in others. Before long, Peter had found himself amongst a circle of hooded Wizards, all facing him. He couldn't tell who was there, but one that was, was Lord Voldemort. He stood before him, robes billowing in the wind, no trace of joy on his face. No doubt he had expected Peter to fail again. Peter felt a surge of suppressed rage - no one ever had any faith in him, not the Death Eaters, not the Marauders, not anyone. He was about to prove them all wrong. They would get what was coming to them, after all those years of ridicule. He transformed to his Wizard self, bowed and kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robes. Still facing downwards, he spoke clearly.

"The Potters can be found at number seven, Godric's Hollow."

High pitched laughter erupted before him, his skin crawled, he felt sick. He had betrayed his only friends. "Some friends," he thought to himself, reaffirming his decision. He was being lifted to his feet, all the Death Eaters were pleased with his work and he felt like he finally belonged. An evil grin spread across Peter's dirty face and he laughed manically along with his fellow Death Eaters.

Back in Godric's Hollow, Lily Potter woke with a scream in her living room, sweat trickling down her face and tears forming in her eyes, startling the two sitting in front of her.


	3. James

Chapter 3: James

"Sirius, go get Dumbledore," James said, not daring to take his eyes off Lily. Her breathing had become ragged and she was staring determinedly at the ceiling. There was fear in her eyes and her vibrant red hair clung to her forehead in strands.

Sirius, however, was not all that convinced.

"Mate, d'ya not think you are over-reacting," he asked James in barely a whisper.

James turned furiously on his best friend and fixed him with a deadly stare. "Are you having me on, Padfoot," he spat, "Do you not recognise her behaviour? Three times you have seen her like this, Sirius. Three times! And each of those times, she has been right. Each of those times we have fought with Voldemort. He must have gotten to Peter…"

"James, seriously, think logically. Lily is upset. And who wouldn't be," he added quickly. "She has had a very hard few days. What with everything you have just found out, and having to perform that magic herself, well she is probably just exhausted."

James stood up quickly and went to Lily's side. He rubbed her back and pulled her face down to meet his. He penetrated her gaze, attempting to read her mind. Lily was a mess, and could not be read. James hung his head - Lily never held back from him with her thoughts, and it troubled him to know that his beloved was in such a state that she could not organise her thoughts. He lifted her onto his lap and held her protectively. Lily was still in shock from what she heard - she couldn't see anything, all was in darkness but she heard Peter's voice. She tried desperately to convince herself that she was just recalling when they spoke earlier, but she couldn't help but think that Peter sounded different somehow. His voice sounded menacing, victorious…

Sirius ambled around the room and stopped in front of the fireplace. On the mantelpiece was a picture from Lily and James' wedding day, not so long ago.

"Who is that silly looking sod there, Harry," Sirius asked, pointing at James. In the picture, James looked happy, and smiled and waved and made funny faces at his little boy, while Sirius pointed and laughed with him. Lily, on the other hand looked the picture of supreme elegance in her long, white gown, her shining red hair flowing in gentle curls around her face. Harry laughed with such innocence as only a baby can have.

James, noticing his little boy, sighed loudly. He had not looked at him the same since Dumbledore's grim news. To think, if all went badly, that his little boy might die. He had only just turned one; he had never gotten the chance to live his life.  
James swallowed hard, the lump growing large in his throat forcing its way upwards, hot tears stinging his eyes. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes roughly, not wanting to upset Lily. He reached out, wrapped an arm around her and she buried her face in his shoulder. Holding her like this, he remembered simpler times. He thought of when this place was first their home, a comfortable house he inherited off his parents. This time last year, they sat on the porch swing with their 3-month-old baby in their arms.

_"Can you imagine, in just a short few years time our little boy will be in Hogwarts," James exclaimed to his beaming wife._

"Oh stop James, that is so far away! I'll be an old lady then," she said, though by the excitement in her voice, it wasn't the first time she thought it. 

"I'm so mad the map was confiscated, I would have given it to him on his first day," said James, a trace of bitterness in his tone.

"Hmm, a fine way to start school, getting into mischief," Lily said, in an impeccable impersonation of Professor McGonagall.

"Well he is obviously going to be an honorary Marauder, Lily, just look at him! Spitting image of his old man," said James, grinning wickedly.

"Well lets hope that in his mother's eyes he sees more sense, darling," she chided.  
  
James remembered that night so well. The last of the October sun setting illuminated Lily's flaming red hair and she glowed with a look of pure serenity, the look that had made him fall in love with her all those years ago. 'Pity she didn't return the feeling sooner, we could have spent longer together,' James thought to himself. The hollow pit in the bottom of his chest widened and he felt as though their every minute was precious, as though it was numbered.

He kissed Lily on the forehead; she smiled appreciatively. Her smile, however, did not meet her eyes and James could tell she was feeling the same as he. He turned her towards him and gazed lovingly into her eyes, searching.

Lily complied, and James saw her greatest fear - Harry, dead. James blinked and looked away, murmuring, "Over my dead body." Lily sobbed quietly on his shoulder.

Once more, James fixed his gaze on Sirius. He was dancing around the room with Harry in his arms. Harry was laughing heartily and Sirius was positively beaming. James kissed Lily on the forehead once more, then rested her back onto the chair. He signalled to Sirius to get his attention and walked into the kitchen.

"She seems calmer now, but I would still really appreciate it if you went to find Dumbledore," James whispered to Sirius, "She is never usually wrong about this sort of thing. And what if Peter is injured? Voldemort could be torturing him right now and it's all our fault." 

"James, you do realise that Lily hasn't actually said anything? It may just have been a bad dream," Sirius said reasonably.

James shook his head and shifted his gaze through the door to his wife. She was standing at the writing desk reading the spell book she had used earlier. James sighed at the sight of her. Every moment he wasn't by her side was a moment wasted. He didn't know why he was so worried, but he had always understood Lily's moods, her feelings, and he had an ominous feeling about her behaviour. He couldn't bear the thought of putting her in danger. She never approved of Peter, he shouldn't have forced her to use him. Why couldn't he just have been the secret keeper himself? 'Bit late for that now, isn't it,' he thought to himself.

"Please, Sirius," James uttered without looking at him.  
Sirius noted the tone of guilt in James' voice. Peter may have been a snivelling little toe-rag, but that didn't mean he deserved to be tortured. Suddenly that same feeling of guilt overcame Sirius. It had been his idea after all. He felt responsible for Peter. Sirius ran a free hand through his long, sleek black hair. He kissed Harry on the forehead and handed him to James.

"If it's cold out there, you owe me one, brother, oh and while we are at it, get any of your funny business outta the way before I come back," he insisted in a sulking tone while make overly elaborate gestures from James to Lily. James smiled coyly and gave Sirius a hug.

"Thanks Sirius," James exhaled loudly. Merely having Sirius agree to this was enough of a load off his shoulders. Dumbledore would soon be with them; surely he would be able to add a few extra charms for protection. 

"Right, where is he again," Sirius inquired, rubbing his hands  
together. He was a man on a mission - he looked just as he had always done when the Marauders were going on another one of their wild adventures, that same boyish look of mischief carved on his face.

"Leeds, though he didn't say where specifically," said James.

"Right, well that leaves out Apparating and Floo, the bike it is," Sirius exclaimed, getting very excited now. He would use any excuse he could muster just for the chance to take out his flying motorbike. James laughed in spite of himself. Sirius would never change, he would always be the same kid he met that first day on the Hogwart's Express.

"Oh go on then," James exclaimed, patting Sirius on the back and guiding him through the living room. Sirius stopped at Lily to give her a bear hug from behind and kissed her temple in a feeble attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere and make James jealous. Usually, Lily would react to Sirius and flirt with him to tease James, but this time she merely grasped his friend's hand and looked him in the eye.

"Be careful Sirius, we don't want anything bad to happen to our son's Godfather," she said seriously.

Sirius was a little bothered by the importance Lily placed on these words. It felt as though they would be their last, but rather than make the most of them, Sirius just nodded in understanding and smiled at her.

"Won't be long," Sirius said to James before reaching the door.

"Mind that you're not," James said in a mock-motherly tone, "Or your dinner will be gone cold!"

"There's food," Sirius exclaimed, his eyes widening.

"Oh you dog," James remarked slyly.

"Oh you great big dirty stag," Sirius retorted before wrestling with James, they way they always did when they were in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was the best way to get through a boring day, watching all the smitten girls shriek and gasp over the two best-looking, most popular guys in the school.

"Watch the face," said Sirius in a girly voice.

"Bonjour! Don't mess my hair," James mimicked.

They laughed heartily until Lily came to the door with Harry in tow. She stared disbelievingly at the pair of them.  
"I don't know who is the bigger baby, Harry or you two," she scolded.

"SORRY, MOM," they replied while Sirius climbed onto the bike. He revved the engine loudly and growled along with it.  
"Don't miss me too much," he shouted over the roar of the engine, before pulling a wheelie. On normal motorbikes, this wouldn't really get you anywhere, other than looking like a prat. However, on flying motorbikes, this was the action that pulled the bike from the pavement to the sky.

"Ya'll come back now, ya hear," James shouted after him in a southern accent, smiling broadly. Sirius had an innate way of making James smile, even in the most desperate of situations. James closed the door and took Lily's hand, walking back to the living room. 

"Alone at last," he muttered, before pulling her towards him. He pressed every inch of his body against hers and engaged her in a long passionate kiss. He pinned her against the wall and kissed her deeply and lovingly before she pulled back. She gazed lovingly into those deep hazel eyes and felt her heart flutter.

"I love you, Potter," she said, smiling at James.

"I love you too… Potter," he replied and kissed her again.

James pulled away from her and picked up Harry. He held him in his arms and sighed heavily.

"I would do anything for this boy Lily. Anything," he said sincerely. But Lily didn't answer him. When James tore his eyes from his son he saw that Lily's breathing had become quicker. Rage was painted all over her face and she was shaking violently. Although she was visibly upset, she seemed to radiate energy. She reached into her pocket and grabbed her wand. 

James followed her gaze and suddenly felt as though his heart had stopped beating in his chest. His mouth became dry and every breath he took was shallow and irregular. His grip tightened on Harry, and he kissed his forehead before passing him to Lily.

"Take him. Go," he commanded. Lily answered without removing her gaze. 

"I can't leave you," she said quietly, but fiercely. From outside their living room window, they saw him. He was walking slowly across the road, taking his time, savouring the moment. His crimson robes billowed in the wind and his high-pitched maniacal laugher echoed through the quiet neighbourhood. Only one Death Eater in full-length black robes accompanied him - it seemed to him that taking out a baby was no need for an entourage.

"Lily, please, you have to go. Protect Harry. I will fight him off as long as I can. I'll kill him if I have to. Just please. Go," James said. He found the words hard to say, they stuck in his throat. He knew this was because they were quite possibly the last he would ever say to his beloved wife. A solitary angry tear rolled down his face and he could hear Lily choking beside him. She turned to the writing desk and ripped out a page of the book that was left open. She felt as though her feet were glued to the spot, but for Harry's sake she summoned the courage needed to make those crucial steps. James turned to look at her one last time. Seeing her emerald green eyes glistening with tears, and his baby son cooing in his mother's arms as though there wasn't a trouble in the world, he realised that this indeed was the last time he would see them. This was the end. "Pedetemptim," he said, and as a result time slowed down, and James could say everything he had wanted to say since the first moment he saw Lily.

"I love you Lily. More than you will ever know. I have loved you from the day I first saw you and I only wish that we could have spent our entire lives together. I wanted so much to grow old with you, to have more children, to watch Harry grow into a young man, to have grandchildren," he confessed, glancing at the window every few moments to check the Dark Lord's progress while holding Lily's hand, "This could be the end of everything, Lily. I love you, I'm so sorry I could be such a prat but I do, I love you."

He pressed his lips against hers quickly, feeling her tears dampen his cheeks. He lifted his head and kissed her forehead. Voldemort was glancing in through the living room window, surveying them like animals in a zoo. Lily and James stared at each other for a moment, reading each other's thoughts and in silent agreement both understood what needed to be done.

"James, darling, I am so sorry I denied you for so long. I didn't believe your efforts were sincere, but I am so glad that we have had these years. They have been the most exciting, happiest and saddest years of my life. We have been through so much together, and if anything I love you more for it. I love you more with every passing moment. You are my soul, my life, my everything. You should know, I could never go on without you. I love you," she said, streams of tears flowing from her eyes. They kissed once more, and knew it was over.

"Times up," said a high, cold cruel voice from beside them.

"Go, quickly," James said to Lily, and with one last heart wrenching glance, she apparated out of sight with Harry in  
her arms.

"How very touching," Voldemort said, a cruel smile stretched across his thin lips, "True love. It is a pity that you two had to be obstacles in my way…"

"Shut your foul mouth," James spat. His wand was pointed directly at Voldemort, and followed him as he circled around the room.

"Now, now, James, is that any way to treat a guest," Voldemort hissed, enjoying the drawing out of this moment.

"You are no guest. You are uninvited! What did you do to Peter," James shouted, his fury getting the better of him.

That evil grin broadened and something in Voldemort's eyes  
flickered.

"ANSWER ME! EVERTE STATUM," James bellowed, knocking Voldemort off his feet. This spell normally threw the victim into the air, but Voldemort merely brushed it off and fixed James with his cold, mirthless stare.

"Oh no, James, no, that wont do… You will have to be taught some manners… Crucio," Voldemort muttered, cackling menacingly as James fell to his knees, pain engulfing his very being. White-hot pokers jabbed his body, he felt as though his skin was being peeled away slowly. When the spell ended, he hung his head limply, struggling to breathe. 

"That's more like it Potter," Voldemort spat, "Now, as to your question about your dear friend Peter. Well, I rather thought you would like to see this yourself."

James lifted his head, even though it caused him much pain to do so, to see the Death Eater remove his hood. Peter Pettigrew stared back at him, although James barely recognised his face. He looked confident, self-assured, and wicked. James stood up gingerly, barely believing his own eyes.

"You were my friend, Peter. I trusted you," he said slowly.

"Ha! Some friend! You and Sirius did nothing but make my life a misery, and now its time to pay the piper. Your day is up, Potter," he shouted.

"That will do, Pettigrew, you may leave now," Voldemort said shortly.

Peter looked crestfallen; he had so much he wanted to say to James, he wanted to watch him being tortured.

"Er… Are… are y..you sure, my Lord," Peter stuttered. James recognised him now - this was the whimpering coward he had known all these years.

"I think the Dark Lord is more than a match for a baby and his weak parents," Voldemort yelled, cursing Peter while he was at it, "You will however have the great honour of producing the Dark Mark." Voldemort's eyes flickered and although James was willing to lay down his life for his wife and child, he wasn't going to go down without a fight. Peter scurried for the door, but he didn't get past James.

James swore loudly at him, and punched him in the nose. Peter was knocked backwards; James pointed his wand directly at Peter's chest and said "infindo!" causing a large gash to appear there. Bleeding profusely, Peter received further blows from James, until Voldemort separated them by administering the Crucio curse on James again. Peter limped to the door like a wounded animal and the last words James ever heard him say were "Mosmordre!" 

With a blinding green flash, the living room was illuminated by the Dark Mark floating outside the Potter's home. James knew that he had mere seconds to live, and that this murderous despicable excuse for a Wizard was going to go after his family, so he rose valiantly to his feet and stood at his full height. If he was going to die at the hands of this pathetic excuse for a human being, he would do it straight backed and proud, like a man.

Not caring to waste manners on the one who threatened his life and the lives of the ones he cared about, James administered the first blow. 

"Suffodio!" he roared, and with precision, many large stab wounds carved Voldemort's body. He was bleeding heavily and thoroughly upset at his condition, but nonetheless, Voldemort was impressed by how valiantly James fought.

"You are indeed a great fighter, James," Voldemort hissed, "Your passion reminds me of how I used to be."

"Don't you ever, EVER compare yourself to me! I would never murder a child," James shouted. Any inhibitions James had were flouted, and though he was merely postponing the moment when Voldemort would utter those deadly words. 

"Pity, James, I could have spared your life if you joined me," said Voldemort in a conversational tone, "But if death is what you choose, death is what you shall receive."

The corners of Voldemort's lips curled into a malicious grin as he rubbed his wand between his fingers. James wasted no time sending many curses his way - most of them bounced off with no effect, but Voldemort still bled heavily from the stabbing curse.

"Potter, when will you ever learn? I have made many precautions to ensure my immortality. I may be bleeding now, but it will cease, and I will be strong. And you…," he said, letting his words linger in the thick tense air, "You will be dead. You and your Mudblood wife. Crucio!" 

James shuddered, his body writhing in agony. White-hot pokers burnt his eyelids, his fingers bent backwards and he dropped his wand. James was in too much pain to even scream, to catch his breath. His neck seized up and he felt as though he was going to explode with agony. When the curse was lifted, James fell to a heap on the ground gagging and choking. He rolled onto his back, groping for his wand, but Voldemort snatched it from his grasp and snapped it in half. 

"No more fair play, Potter, your time is up and you are delaying me from achieving what I came here to accomplish," Voldemort spat in impatient tones. His expression was suddenly curious however, as James Potter struggled to his feet. James knew that, at that moment with no means of defending himself, his time had come. He rose nimbly to his feet and stood up straight, staring directly into those pitiless eyes.

"A worthy foe," Voldemort whispered as he rose his wand and aimed it directly at James' chest, "Avada Kedavra!"

"LILY," James managed to scream before he fell once more to the ground, never to rise again.

Upstairs, Lily felt her heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. Her breath caught in her chest and she dropped to the floor. Her head was spinning as she trembled with despair - James Potter was dead.


	4. Lily

Chapter 4: Lily

Lily's heart shattered into a million tiny pieces as her husband's death cry reverberated through Godric's Hollow. Painful shivers crept through Lily's body, hairs standing on end. She screamed in agony as the splintered remains of her heart pierced her soul. James was gone and he took a piece of her with him, the part that willed her to live. Her heartbeat became irregular and sent numbing pains throughout her body. Her head throbbed from her continuous racking sobs and her aching soul tingled. Sobbing inconsolably in the nursery, Lily cursed herself for time wasted.

She remembered the first time she saw James Potter. He had always been arrogant - not helped by his friendship with Sirius. Every time he asked her out she thought it was some sort of joke. As if popular, cool, handsome, coveted James Potter would ever give plain Lily Evans a second look. His persistence in the matter only lead her to believe that she had made herself 'hard to get,' and that was the only reason for his interest. How pig-headed teenagers can be, not to see a good thing when it is right before them. If she had only taken a moment to realise the hurt and disappointment in his eyes when she turned him down.

Of course, that had been when they were quite young - as the years raced by, Lily's beauty flourished and was rivaled by none. And with her growing beauty, James had newfound interest and determination to win her over. It amazed everyone the effort he put in to impress her, and finally in their sixth year, he realised this could not be done through pranks and Quidditch tactics, but through diligence and humility.

She had been a little more than surprised when he was appointed Head Boy to her Head Girl instead of Remus Lupin, but she grew fond of his company and felt herself melt under his adoring gaze. His confidence had been bruised through her constant rejection, so it was up to Lily to rebuild bridges.

She got her chance, when Severus Snape attempted to hex her for no other reason than the purity of her blood, and James leapt in front of her, taking the full whack of the curse. His nose hairs had grown so rapidly that he was choking on them, and as unattractive as he looked, Lily was smitten by his protection of her, and once he had recovered in the Hospital Wing she professed her love to him and they had been inseparable ever since.

Memories of their time together slipped through her memory like grains of sand, and Lily found herself clutching to them in order to maintain some level of sanity. She couldn't imagine living without James. They had only been married a few short years, but it seemed impossible to picture any situation without him by her side.

She remembered their wedding day. Lily had heard such horror stories from other brides about the feelings of dread and nerves that overwhelmed them. One man for the rest of your life? No more first kisses, no more first dates, that feeling of excitement in the pit of your stomach gone, forever. What made Lily laugh was that she felt none of these things. She was ecstatic - she was marrying James Potter, the man of her dreams, and was excited to live life with him - to have children, to have a home, to make his dinners and share his bed, to watch their children grow up and have children of their own, to grow old together. And what was even better, James wanted all of these things too. He was a lot more nervous than she was, he had always been so worried that she would turn around and say 'April Fool, as if I would ever marry you!' 

Shuddering breaths shook Lily as she pressed her eyes closed and tried to see James. Her memories were sifting too quickly through her memory and it horrified her that she couldn't remember what he looked like. A scream caught in her throat as she clasped a hand over her mouth. Her heart dropped to her stomach as the realisation dawned on her - she would never see him again. And now she couldn't even see him in her mind's eye. Tears saturated her face as she tried desperately to remember his features; his broad shoulders, his strong hands, his perfect physique, his soul-searching eyes, his full tempting lips, his chiseled jaw. These random thoughts slithered away and still she couldn't remember. Harry yawned quietly in her arms, she looked at him and the ghost of a smile appeared on her face. That's what he looks like. How could she ever have held it against James? She had been so jealous that Harry looked nothing like her. Except her eyes. Her eyes did look good on him. Oh how she would regret not being around to see him grow up. She wished for a world without Voldemort, where they all could have lived a normal life. Harry didn't deserve to be an orphan. It was just too horrible for thought. He was such a pleasure of a baby: rarely cried, slept well, laughed and smiled the entire time. 'I suppose you won't remember me at all, or your father. I do hope you will be happy with Sirius,' she thought as she wiped one of her tears from his head. They had planned on trying for a little sister for Harry, one with all of Lily's features, but James's eyes. They were going to call her Beth.

Renewed cries sent a tremor through Lily's being as she caught a glance of their wedding portrait on the wall in Harry's nursery. There he stood, never taking his eyes off her while Sirius danced around in the background, drunk as a coot. James had looked so stunning that day he had taken her breath away. She knew he felt the same way as she did from the way he blushed crimson when she slipped her hand in his, that all too familiar electrifying feeling connecting them on some deeper level.

Seconds seemed to stretch to eternity for Lily, now that James had left them. Sitting in the darkness tainted by the eerie green glow streaming through the window, Lily wanted to do nothing more than forget what was approaching, to sit her with her baby in her arms gurgling quietly to himself. Unfortunately, the world did not stop turning; time would wait no longer. She knew what had to be done. She hugged Harry tight as she climbed gingerly to her feet. Lily sniffed and let out an angry sigh. All of their plans were ruined. She would not let this go lightly.

James' voice resounded over and over again in her head - with his final breath he had attempted to warn her of what was coming. She had only a matter of minutes to administer the Charm to Harry, for she was certain of her own doom, if nothing else. One thing was for sure: she was going to go down fighting. 

"Colloportus," she whispered, pointing her wand at Harry's nursery door, which instantly sealed itself with an odd squelching noise. Soon after, she activated an anti-apparition charm on the room in order to give herself as much time as possible. She knew such simple charms were of no great obstacle to the Dark Lord, but she wasn't about to give him an open invitation to her death. She placed Harry in his crib after one last lingering hug and final kiss on his forehead before rounding her wand on him.

"I love you, Harry darling, I hope you will know how much some day. I am so sorry I cannot stay with you. Be strong," she whispered, her voice thick with tears. Her heart leapt to her throat as she heard a solid 'thunk,' of foot on wood - Voldemort was mounting the stairs. Lily tried to block him out as she administered the Protection Charm that she had been memorising since James had sent them away. Her voice shaking with grief, she recited as the Dark Lord drew nearer:

"Syawlau oyt cetorpl liw,"

Thunk 

"Irever ofuo yevoli,"

Thunk

"Sruoyma idnaen imera uoysa,"

Thunk

"Gnolsa snievru oynis wolft,"

Thunk

"Iu oyt cet orpl liw evoly," 

Thunk

"Muoyl laf ebl lahs mra hons,"

Thunk 

"Ruoy evasot efily mevigi."

"Ostium Aperio," Voldemort bellowed. As Lily spoke the final words of the Charm, the Nursery door exploded open in a blast of blinding green light, and standing in its doorway was Voldemort, smiling a very satisfied grin. Before he could speak a word, Lily pointed her wand at him and roared "Diffindo," slashing a fresh cut across his chest not far from where James had opened him only minutes earlier. Voldemort showed no signs of pain, but his face did show fury.

"Now, now Lily, that's not very lady-like of you at all," he spat, "though I would expect no less from a dirty Mudblood like you."

Lily had no time to be offended by his insults as it was enough of an insult to her that he waltz into her home and attempt to murder her son. She knew to protect him, for the charm to work, that she would have to die, but she was not ready to go yet. She hated this contemptible man who murdered with no signs of remorse. She drew her wand again, angry tears drenching her face as she cursed him over and over again with anything she could think of. Most of these bounced off him like water from a duck's back, but her words cut further than any dagger ever would.

"You disgusting wretched evil excuse for a Wizard," she screamed between curses. Lily was an impressive Witch when riled; power emanated from her very core and she was very much in control of the Dark Magic she could muster from the depths of her soul. Her pupil's dilated until her iris was almost completely engulfed by darkness.

Electricity flickered at her fingertips and she channeled all the pain she felt from her husband's death and the attempt on her son's life into her magic. Voldemort wasn't easily fazed but Lily sensed a flicker of fear when she searched those callous cold eyes.

Lily lifted her hand where the electricity flickered menacingly from them and aimed at Voldemort. His body glowed blue for the briefest of seconds as she sent electrifying shocks through him. Again he showed no signs of being hurt, though his energy was depleting. It was obvious that he underestimated the Potters - had he enlisted his Death Eaters, this job would long since be over.

"Petrificus Totalus! You know Lily, it doesn't have to be this way," he panted to Lily's frozen form, "I could use a Witch of your power on my side. Why don't you just stand aside? Your son is a threat; once eliminated, I can offer you anything. We could even resuscitate your darling husband downstairs. You two really oughtn't fight against me. Your power and sacrifice could earn you a place next to me when I rule all."

Lily, though her body was non-responsive, her mind was racing. How could she have left her guard down! She prayed for the opportunity to duel with Voldemort, surely he wouldn't attempt to kill Harry while she lay there?

"What do you say, Lily," Voldemort asked of her, "It isn't too much of a sacrifice, I daresay. Look at him; he doesn't even mourn his father. I doubt very much whether he would mourn you, too. You should be glad I want to kill this selfish child. He doesn't even acknowledge the great lengths you have gone to, to protect him. Should he be given the chance to grow up, he still won't appreciate you. He won't even thank you!"

Voldemort walked over to where Lily lay and knelt beside her. He stroked her face with one bony finger and smiled sickeningly at her. Had she been physically able to, Lily was sure she would have vomited upon his touch. All she could do was scream internally as she waited for the curse to be lifted.

"Pity you are a Mudblood, Lily," he crooned, his eyes taking in her form, "What sane minded Wizard would say no? And a widow, no less. Fair game. If nothing else, I admire young James's taste. I expect even he knew that you are too good for him. You deserve someone of power, wealth and status."

He licked his lips and twiddled a lock of her soft red hair in his fingers before continuing.

"You would look delectable dripping in diamonds. With a body like yours, you should be wearing the finest fabrics, cut in all the right places," he traced her lips with the tip of his finger. Lily was suffering; everywhere he touched felt as though it had been set on fire. Bile was creeping up her throat and her brain screamed with his every word.

Lily knew from her training with the Order that to lift any curse she would have to clear her mind and concentrate on the procedure. Lily was one of few Witches who could use magic without the aid of a wand and so this practice came easily to her. She focused all her Magical energy on one thought only - Harry. She imagined him growing up healthy and happy, she pictured him in Gryffindor robes, playing on the House Quidditch Team. 'His father's son, truly,' she thought to herself, all the while channeling all her feelings for her son into her magic, willing the curse to be lifted. Slowly, she felt a rush of electricity shoot through her body. Her leg jerked and before Voldemort had time to react she was on her feet, hexing him with such force that he was thrown into the wall.

Lily took advantage of Voldemort's trip through the wall to rush to Harry's crib. He sat there playing with a soft-toy, a stag to be precise. She ran her fingers through his soft black hair and he lifted his gaze to meet hers. He made some strange gurgling noise while lifting his stag and looking at his mother dolefully. Lily felt her eyes well up with tears as she cupped his chin in her hand softly, lifting his face slightly so she could kiss him. She felt herself drain of energy as she succumbed to her fate - in order for her son to live, she was going to have to die. And she realised she had better do that before Voldemort sneaks his way in to kill Harry first. The creaking of floorboards prompted Lily to whip her head around and face her doom.

"That was completely uncalled for, Lily," Voldemort exclaimed, "But an impressive display of your powers all the same. Lifting a curse yourself? Almost unheard of. It would seem I underestimated you, Lily. Never mind, I enjoy a challenge. I expect James would have been very proud of you. But no bad deed goes unpunished, young lady, and for your insolence you will have to be disciplined. Crucio."

Lily fell to her knees and screamed in agony. She felt as though all her joints dislocated themselves in one foul swoop, her skin prickled as though burning. Her teeth clenched hard and gritted together, she tasted blood in her mouth before the curse was lifted.

Breathing hard on all fours, she found it nearly impossible to lift her gaze from the carpet to meet Voldemort's cruel eyes. She could hear his high-pitched cackle from what seemed miles away before she snapped back to reality. She rose slowly and carefully to her feet, resisting the urge to vomit in front of him. She steadied herself by placing her hands on Harry's crib and finally lifted her eyes to his. 

"Resilient as well, are we?" he asked, the shadow of a smile stretching across his sickly pale skin, "Just like James. It really is disgusting how alike you two are. He too rose valiantly to his feet after torture. Let's see how you react after another bout. Crucio!"

The intensity of this torture had been surpassed by the last, and Lily still hadn't fully recovered from that. Her hands instantly clapped onto her head as she felt her mind was about to explode. She bit down on her lip to keep from screaming, drawing blood. Her fingers dug into her scalp but she could not tear them away. Her stomach bubbled and boiled and she could no longer restrain herself from retching. When the curse was lifted this time, Lily was weeping in pain, but amazingly remained upright.

Voldemort surveyed her for several long moments before speaking again.

"I will only offer you salvation one more time, Lily," he spoke in barely a whisper, "Join me or die. What will it be? Crucio!" 

Unable to stand the agony any longer, Lily fell sideways and hit her head with great force against the edge of Harry's crib. She thought her eardrums were going to burst from the pressure encompassing her head. Her hands bent backwards and she dropped her wand instantly without even noticing. Voldemort lifted the curse much quicker this time than he had done previously.

"Accio wand," he muttered while Lily fumbled about, searching for her wand. She let out an exhausted sigh when she realised he had gotten there before her. The victim of multiple tortures, she would never be able to summon the energy to defend herself with wandless magic. Once more, she rose to her feet, balancing herself against Harry's cot.   
Voldemort waited until Lily fearlessly stared into his eyes again before lifting her wand at arms length and snapping it in half. "I'm a real rotter, aren't I?" he murmured, running his tongue across his teeth and baring them in a grimace, "Made up your mind?" 

"Never," she growled, much to his dismay. Lily was swaying where she stood latching onto Harry's crib. She could hear Harry talking away to himself, blissfully unaware of the events that were unfolding before him. Lily wiped a trickle of blood that traveled from her temple to her chin on her sleeve. It was time. With what little energy she had left, she closed off her thoughts using Occlumency. If she was going to fool Voldemort, she would have to hide any thoughts about her hidden agenda.

"Tom," she muttered, her voice thick with blood. She noted his disgusted expression at being referred to by his birth name, but continued nonetheless. Time was of the essence. "I am imploring your better nature. I beg of you, do not kill my son. Kill me instead. He is only a baby, how could he possibly be of any threat to you, a fully-grown Wizard. He can't even talk yet, let alone utter an incantation," Lily choked on her own words on the realisation that she would never hear Harry's first word, or any of his words for that matter, "Please, don't kill him. Kill me."

Voldemort studied Lily for a while. He admired her fighting skills, her magical ability that even he did not possess. And now, he admired her selflessness. She was willing to sacrifice her own life to spare another. Quite the noble cause. But not for one moment would he consider letting this boy live, as he would eventually be his downfall, years from now. He moved closer towards Lily, a wicked grin etching his sinister face as he watched her struggle to breath. Even if she was left to survive, she would not last long.

"How very just of you to give your life to save another," he drawled enjoying drawing her out, "but you are in no position to bargain. It is a pity you would not join me, your righteousness will be your downfall."

A single tear escaped from Lily's eye as she thought of everything she was leaving behind. An entire life was being stripped from her; a husband, home and family. Harry shuffled around in the crib behind her and she let out a shuddering sigh as she realised he was going to be all alone. At least she had done all she could to protect him before she died.

"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort yelled with great disdain in his voice.

"Harry!" Lily screamed as she fell to a crumpled heap on the floor. Voldemort laughed as he surveyed her limp form and rounded on Harry. There was nothing standing in his way now - Lily Potter was dead.


	5. A Changed man:The new Tom Riddle

Chapter 5: Tom

It was a cold summer's evening, no different any other in this British town. The sun was sleeping behind a distant rock as the moon sauntered into the canopy of blue overhead. Stars shone from eons ago and blazed brightly onto the earth below. All was still; all was silent, until a young stranger interrupted the sleeping town. Trees whispered at his presence as the ghostly wind rippled through them, tickling their branches and leaves menacingly. A stiff breeze bumped into the young man who shivered from the bitter cold and his own all-encompassing nerves. Before him stood a stately manor looming in a sinister manner, daring him to enter. He lifted his freezing fingers, wrapped them into a fist and knocked twice on the hard oak door.

Upon turning 16 that frosty day in June 1942, young Tom Riddle was no longer welcome at the orphanage in which he had spent the majority of his life. Part of him was grateful for this; they had been the most miserable years of his life. All he was ever told of his parents was that his father had left them long ago and that his mother only lived long enough to name him. Although he never knew his parents, he always felt a jolt of happiness in his heart when he thought of them. His father had, of course, been terrified when he realised his wife was a witch, and deduced that his son would be the same. Tom had figured this much out on his own - the Muggle orphanage at which he was forced to live knew nothing of his mother's powers. But that was a long time ago and Tom felt the need to confront his father. He wanted to live a normal life, to be part of a family, be somewhere he would be loved.

He never knew love in the muggle orphanage. Not until he was 11 years old could he account for all of the strange phenomenon that he seemed to encounter. He certainly never thought it possible that he was responsible for these events. He remembered he had finished cleaning the floors in his boarding room and was awaiting inspection, only to be beaten as the Matron could not see her reflection in the floor. As the Matron had raised her hand to strike him, it inflated and hung as a dead weight. It only occurred to him years later that he had made this happen to avoid her punishment. Odd things always happened around Tom. If he was cold, a fire would erupt, if someone threatened him, they were harmed in some way.

There wasn't a day that went by in his youth that he wasn't threatened. He was ritually beaten every day he lived there. A lot of the time there was no reason needed and the rest of the time a pathetic new reason was coined. One damp, gusty morning as he and the other orphans were trooped to the church, his hair became ruffled in the wind. He was disciplined for his unruly appearance by standing barefoot in the rain for the remainder of the day. When at last he was bid to return indoors, he was hit with a switch until he bled. As he felt his flesh separate itself from his bone, the pain became so excruciating that his knees buckled and he fell to the ground. For this he was punished additionally for his weakness. He was whipped with a leather strip across his ribs until rivers of blood flowed from his frail young body. He fainted from the sheer agony of it all. He had only been 9 years old at the time.

Instinctively, Tom's eyes fell to his outstretched hand – he was still scarred. He also bore large red scars across his chest from his beatings, not to mention innumerable gashes and marks distributed throughout his body. He lifted his eyes once more to the large oak door before him and smiled a sad smile at the thought of leaving his old life behind. Standing as he was, trembling in the cold, he would have gladly conjured a fire but he didn't dare break the statute of secrecy and risk expulsion from Hogwarts.

Hogwarts was the first place that Tom ever really felt welcome – it was his first real home. There he had friends, was top of his class, and even made prefect. He was even considered one of the most handsome boys in the school, a title that he didn't acknowledge but didn't despise either. Hogwarts appealed to him even more than most knew about, however. The moment he discovered his mother was a Witch, the castle's walls seemed to whisper secrets to him as he passed by. He spent a lot of time trying to find information on his mother's family. In his second year at Hogwarts, he happened across one particularly interesting ancestor: Salazar Slytherin. He had always wondered why the Sorting Hat said what it did when it chose him to be in Slytherin house; "Ahh, I wondered when you would return to us. No doubt you are here to finish your ancestor's noble work; he has been waiting for you. SLYTHERIN!"

Tom had studied every book on the founders of the school and any book with any reference to Slytherin in it for 4 tiresome years. It was only in the final week in school this year that he found what he was looking for – although he was reluctant to act on it.

Tom was brought back to reality by the sound of fumbling latches on the other side of this heavy door. Excitement flooded through his entire being – he imagined this day for so long; his father's embrace, catching up on lost time together, exchanging stories, living together as one happy family. Surely he would feel remorse on having abandoned him as a child. His life would be so much richer with his father and he was certain that he could use his magic to enrich his life also.

"Who's there," a gruff voice said from behind the door.

Tom swallowed hard – the words caught in his dry throat and he coughed loudly to clear them, "My n-name is T-Tom," he began, shakily, "Tom Riddle."

There was no movement behind the door for some time, but Tom could sense their presence. There was a shuffling of feet and hushed voices followed by the sound of someone walking purposefully towards the door.

"Who goes there?" another voice said, much more impatient than the previous one, although there was a trace of fear hidden behind the strong male voice, "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Certainly not," Tom exclaimed, his anticipation at being so close to his father overtaking him. He was so close! There was but a layer of wood separating them. Latches were unlocked and the door creaked open a notch. A slither of light and warmth emerged from within, mingled with a strong scent of warm, freshly prepared food. Tom inhaled it all, smiling broadly. His glance met the man standing tall before him and as quickly as that his excitement was replaced by sorrow.

This man was indeed his father – he had the same strong features; chiseled bone structure, dark eyes and hair, same face exactly! The only difference was Tom Senior's obvious look of disdain as he fixed Tom Junior with his cold, uncaring eyes. Tom Junior's eyes fell to the ground – he did look rather shabby. He was still wearing his school uniform, as it was the only item of clothes he owned that looked in any way respectable. He sniffed quietly in the cold. He felt the temperature drop dramatically when twined with his father's icy stare.

"What on earth do you think you are doing coming here?" he hissed, his eyes full of loathing, his voice dripping with disgust. Tom Junior shifted his weight between his feet before returning his father's gaze. He couldn't help but crumple slightly beneath it. He looked so angry, so unforgiving. A strong surge of wind disturbed Little Hangleton and ripped through Tom, taking his hopes for a family with it. His eyes were streaming and he prayed that his father would account it to the wind; he did not want to be a disappointment to him.

"I… er," Tom stuttered. What was he supposed to say? 'I just popped by to play happy families, want to join me?' Instead he said, "I was looking for you, father."

This apparently was the wrong thing to say. Before Tom Junior had anytime to react, Tom Senior tore himself from his home and closed the door behind him. Once closed, he grabbed his son by the neck and pushed him forcefully against the door. He wrapped one hand around his neck pressing him hard on the throat as he fitted him with a stare that was filled with pure loathing.

"I am NOT your father, boy, do you hear me? Your mother was a rotten slut, a liar and a freak! How am I even to know that you are mine? And even if you are I want nothing to do with you, do you hear me? I bet you are just like her, aren't you? You stay away from here, don't you ever darken my doorstep again! You foul, dirty, disgusting vermin! Go back to the wretched place you came from, I hope you never return and that I never have the misfortune to make your acquaintance again!"

With that Tom Senior ripped his only son from his hands and from his life, throwing him roughly onto the hard stone path that led to their door. He opened the door and bounded into his house, fastening the many locks into place once more. Tom Junior heard him leave, the muffled voices ebbing away, taking his hopes for a normal life with them. For a long time Tom couldn't move from this place. He sat on the cold pavement rubbing his neck and gasping for air. There was a dull ache in his heart that far outweighed the pain in his neck. He sat upright and hung his head as tears flowed like streams down his face. His entire life he had never felt whole, never had a sense of belonging.

The harsh unforgiving wind howled in Little Hangleton and once again stripped Tom Riddle. This time it took with it his tears. Tom inhaled the strong scent of pine needles that riddled the ground at his feet, and felt a new sense take him over. No more tears would he shed over a family lost. No other filthy Muggle would make him feel this way. He would have his revenge – Tom Riddle Senior took his family from him, he would take his in return. 'An eye for an eye,' he thought to himself, 'but not tonight. When you think I am long gone, I shall return stronger than before and you will rue the day you abandoned me. You will pay for this with your life!'

Tom's thoughts turned back to Hogwarts – it was the only place he could go, and once there he would take over Salazar Slytherin's work, no more questions. Muggles everywhere would pay for his pain.

"No, please! I beg of you," Tom Senior whimpered, "Please, don't do this! Don't kill us! Have mercy!"

"Mercy? I do not understand the word, having never had the privilege of having mercy bestowed upon me," Voldemort spat, eyeing the quivering man before him with disgust.

"Please sir, if not to me, give mercy to my parents! They are old, have never committed any sins or done any wrong, never hurt a fly," he was crying now, his fattened cheeks sparkling with shiny tears, his face blotchy and appearance utterly deplorable. He showed nothing of the man who had stood intrepidly before him two years ago, but had let himself go to seed, tortured from the memory of his son's unexpected visit.

"The greatest sin they could commit is giving refuge to a filthy Muggle such as you! I promised myself you would regret the day you turned your back on me, and your day is up. This could all have been avoided had you accepted me!" Voldemort screamed, his body shaking with rage.

"Please, son!" Tom cried as comprehension dawned on him - this ghastly man who stood before him was his own flesh and blood, "Think about this! We can forget all of this please just reconsider!"

"I am not the son of a filthy Muggle, I am the descendant of the greatest Wizard of all time, Salazar Slytherin, and tonight you shall feel his wrath through me! I have thought about nothing but this for years now, and I grow tired of your pathetic ramblings. Farewell, I hope you rot in Hell. Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort spat before uttering the most deadly curse three times, killing the only remaining members of his Muggle ancestry, ridding himself of Tom Riddle. His high-pitched maniacal laughter grew louder and more powerful with every breath, and with a resounding 'pop' he vanished from the scene, never to return.

Or so he thought.

Voldemort stood victoriously above the motionless form of Lily Potter's body. The corners of his lips turned up and a high-pitched, cold laugh erupted from them. His eyes rested on her for a moment, 'such a powerful witch, a dreadful waste,' he thought to himself, as he threw the remains of her wand at her. He pushed her roughly to one side, clearing the way to the young baby sitting in his crib, innocently oblivious to the horrendous events of that night.

Voldemort rubbed his hand against his forehead where he had received a bruise from being knocked into the wall. He refused to believe his own stupidity, for being so foolish, for coming here alone. How was he to know of the powers these people possessed? It was unquestionable that he, Lord Voldemort, was the most powerful Wizard alive. He was feared and revered by many. Yet tonight as he stood in the nursery of his greatest threat, he felt like the old man that he was. These people had certainly taken him off guard. 'No matter, they are the worse for it,' he reassured himself.

Voldemort's eyes rested on Harry, who was gurgling contently to himself, yawning and blinking his heavy eyelids. Voldemort scoffed at him. He leaned on the railings of Harry's crib and eyed him suspiciously.

"So, you are this great Wizard eh?" he questioned the child, "Going to be the death of me, are you? You don't look very threatening."

Harry coughed quietly, leaned forwards and grabbed a hold of his foot. He lifted it to his mouth and looked up at Voldemort.

"That's disgusting," he hissed, "is this your great plan? Baffle and amaze me to death?"

Harry released his foot and replaced it with his thumb. He let out a series of incomprehensible noises and laughed at Voldemort, clapping his hands and smiling. Voldemort exhaled an angry sigh and leaned back against the wardrobe. He closed his eyes and cracked his knuckles, opening his eyes again to examine his hands. They gave him away – his fingers were long and narrow, his hands wrinkled. No matter what precautions he took against his own death, he was growing old anyway. He examined his face in the mirror on the opposite wall. The expense he paid for being the best he could be had taken its toll on his appearance. The many evils he possessed to obtain his current status had left him more monster than man, and in his weaker moments he remembered the man he used to be.

"You have no idea how lucky you are, do you, child?" Voldemort asked of Harry, but not really expecting any answer. "You have… had, rather, caring parents. They gave their lives to protect you, for all the good it did them. It need not have been this way; I could have spared them if they just gave you up, but alas the Gryffindor spirit remained strong in those two. Pity..." He glanced around the comfortable furnishings in this cosy nursery, choosing to ignore the crumpled heap that was Lily Potter sprawled on the carpeted floor.

"I gather from this place that you have been lucky enough to have been born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You have everything, Potter, more than most ever will have, and more than I ever had in my youth. Can your small mind even comprehend what it is like to fear to wake up every morning, and live to sleep at night where your dreams can take you some place that is entirely your own?"

Harry yawned in response. Voldemort wrinkled his nose and glared at him.

"No, you wouldn't, would you. And look at you now! You don't even realise that your parents are dead! That's right, Harry. I killed your mammy and daddy. And I shall kill you. And when I have killed you, I will kill anyone associated with you, anyone who has ever loved you. For you see, I was never lucky enough to be loved, and I begrudge you that gift."

Harry fixed him with a curious stare. For a moment, Voldemort actually thought that the child had understood him. Harry abruptly looked away and grabbed a hold of his stag teddy. He lifted it and pointed it at Voldemort, making a succession of 'dada,' noises before pulling it close to his chest. Harry sneezed from the hair on his toy tickling his nose, scrunched up his nose and rubbed his face with his small baby hand.

Voldemort pursed his lips and twiddled his wand between his fingers. It was about time he did what he came here to do.

He stood to his full height and squared his shoulders, sliding his wand between each bony finger in succession while grinning at the young child before him. Harry looked up at Voldemort, but didn't do anything. It seemed Harry was waiting for him to speak.

"I promise," Voldemort began, enjoying every precious moment, drawing out the pleasure of destroying the one person who was born to meet his doom, "this will hurt a lot. Avada Kedavra!"

Not for the first time that night, Voldemort was caught off-guard. He had not been expecting this of all things. The green light that emitted from his wand when the killing curse was uttered had reversed its target and was aiming directly for him. 'What is this magic,' he thought to himself, before agonizing pain burned through his body. He heard his own voice as though it was many miles away screaming in agony, and on some level he felt his own body writhing in agony, but the strongest sensation taking him over was fury. 'How is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time?' He knew one thing for certain - this was not going to be his end. Imagine the embarrassment of it, thwarted by a mere infant! In a final attempt to salvage his life, he ripped himself from his earthly form, leaving his body behind him.

The force of this spell caused an eruption - an explosion of epic proportions, leaving the house in which that night's gruesome battle had taken place scorched, in ruins. Voldemort fled the site in his spirit form with faith in his loyal followers. Surely Pettigrew would raise the alarm and they would search for him. His Death Eaters knew of all the precautions he took against death, they certainly could not believe that he was dead. He would take form in a new body in no time, and once he had he would take care of Harry Potter, for once and for all. Harry Potter will die.


	6. Sirius

Chapter 6: Sirius

It happened while he was flying somewhere above Manchester. The sky was engulfed by a raging green glow miles behind him. His bike spiralled out of control and he dropped several feet, only regaining control after he saw it - the Dark Mark.

Sirius Black revved his engine and flew as fast as his bike would allow, excusing the wind for the welling of tears in his eyes. Suddenly he stopped driving mid-air; James had sent him out for a reason. He was supposed to be searching for Dumbledore. It seemed days ago that Dumbledore sent them an owl explaining his need to journey to Leeds, yet it had only been a matter of hours.

Sirius sighed heavily and swung his head over his shoulder, peering into the darkened distance. He was almost there – half way between Godric's Hollow and Leeds. Should he turn back and fight with his friends, or summon Dumbledore? He should fly back and find Dumbledore and get help, for surely he couldn't do this alone. The eerie green glow encompassed him as he slowly turned his head back to meet it. He placed his head in his hands, closing his eyes and running his fingers through a few loose strands of hair. His mind was racing with possibilities; they were in danger right now as he floated there in the still night sky, their lives in his hands. If he made the wrong choice they were doomed. He jerked his head up suddenly and stared more closely at the Dark Mark. Slowly his gaze travelled behind his shoulder, piercing the inky black of the night sky.

"There is no Dark Mark in that direction," he whispered slowly to himself, fear flooding him. The Dark Mark hovered above anywhere a Death Eater attack took place. Wizards had not yet come up with a spell powerful enough to make it disappear completely, only shorten its length to a few hours. "If there was a mass muggle attack here, the Dark Mark would still be visible!" Sirius revved his engine with new vigour and set off at high speed. There was no muggle attack; it was a diversion.

'How could I have been so foolish?' Sirius thought to himself, his heart wrenched in anger. Sirius swore inwardly; he usually went with his gut feeling, something Lily often chided him for. 'Nice one Lil, the first time I actually take your advice and think things through…' His trail of thought stopped dead; he did not want to ponder on what could be. He didn't want to believe his friends were in any real danger. But all the while fear bubbled acidly in the pit of his stomach, his heartbeat slowed, hard thumps against his chest. Even though he wouldn't admit it to himself, Sirius knew there was reason to be worried. James was right – Lily had a rare gift for sensing danger. She had saved their skin on a number of times, thanks to her level-headedness and keen intellect. Quite the natural leader, she had been instantly recruited into the Order of Phoenix when she left Hogwarts and employed in the Ministry of Magic working with the darkest of magic's. She was one of the few that could withstand it without harm; hers was a rare magic, especially rare that she was born into a muggle family. 'That girl has always been indefinable, no wonder James was always so smitten with her.'

Sirius felt a pang in his heart when he thought of James. He couldn't help but be worried for him, even though James was a much better dueller than he. 'Heck, he is a much better person than I am, never mind fighter,' Sirius thought to himself, swallowing hard on the ever expanding lump in his throat. Sirius forced himself to smile and be positive, 'Think how James would react if he saw you breaking down over nothing! He's fine! Well able to hold his own!' His thoughts were stopped by an eruption that shook the world - another flash of green light exploded from the vicinity of Godric's Hollow, so bright that Sirius had to block his line of vision with his hands. He shut his eyes tightly and could still see the glowing green light burning through his eyelids. With the lights came a roar so loud it resounded in his mind long after it had gone. Silence fell and fear crept through his body as he saw the Dark Mark vanish slowly, leaving naught but a green hue on the skyline. And so he flew onwards to Godric's Hollow, praying his fears would not be recognised.

Sirius steered the bike into a nosedive, not taking any heed to the speed at which he was flying. His face was heated and a numbness not related to the cold weather was seething through his body. The bike landed unceremoniously and Sirius jumped from it before both wheels touched the ground, causing it to fall and spin on its side, sparks emitting from the screeching body. Panic coursed through him, his chest tightened as worry gripped his heart. He stood on the roadside, willing his lead-filled body to move.

His heart was pounding slowly, rhythmically and with great force against his chest. With great effort, Sirius succeeded in moving his reluctant body. Anxiety brought with it new fears and as his pace quickened Sirius felt his legs grow weak, as though his muscles had vanished. His stomach clenched and unclenched with every painful breath he took, cutting his throat like rusty razor blades.

"James?" he called out from the garden, hoping beyond hope that his friend would shuffle out from the smouldering ruins of their home, wife and child in hand.

"James!" he repeated a little more eagerly as he cautiously reached the front door, hanging from its hinge as though it had been ripped from it. The air was humid and stuck in Sirius's throat as he edged his way in through the door. The floorboards creaked and moaned beneath him; the house was growing unstable.

Sirius was growing more anxious of the lack of activity in the house – why wasn't James out of here by now with Lily and Harry? Where were they? This house is going to fall to pieces any minute now.

The silence was punctuated by the sounds of flames licking the walls, floorboards begging to release the loads and succumb to the weight of the house. Sirius placed his hand on the dining room door, took a steadying breath and vigilantly pushed it open.

Time stood still.

Sirius did what he had been threatening to do ever since he heard of the prophecy. Hot, stinging tears flowed from his eyes, drowning him in his sorrow. At his feet lay the body of his best friend, fellow marauder and virtual brother, James Harold Potter. Sirius fell to his knees, grief encapsulating his entire being. He lifted the limp form of James into his arms and buried his face in his chest.

"Prongs," he cried, "No, not this, anything but this…"

His tears flowed more furiously as angry, heartfelt sobs shook him. He touched his hand to his friends face and his tears took new life in feeling that he was still warm.

"This is all my fault," he wailed, "if I hadn't delayed in coming here you would still be alive! I could have fought to save you. If I hadn't delayed in going in the first place, I could have been back in time with help! You needn't have died."

James lay motionless in his arms, his skin growing colder to the touch. Sirius held him close to him, his heart now aching yet the realisation of these events still had not hit him. His tears were many and true, but he could not come to terms with the death of his friend.

Sirius lifted his heavy head slowly to examine James.

"Wake up, buddy, I can't do this without you," he spluttered out, his throat thick. His voice sounded distant and unfamiliar, "I've never been anything without you, James. You are my best friend. Remember all the good times we had?" Words were flowing from Sirius now as memories of their time together flooded him; Sirius and James had been inseparable since their first day on the Hogwarts Express. Despite their different looks, they were often confused for brothers, taking on each other's mannerisms while living in such close proximity for so long. He remembered how willingly he had been welcomed into their home, into their family, "You are the only true brother I have ever known, James. I have never been without you. You were always the brains of the operation, please don't leave me."

He took out his wand and pointed it at James's chest, one last gesture of hope.

"E.. Ennervate," he muttered, sending a jolt into James. His tears were obscuring his vision, and his lip trembled.

Nothing happened.

"Ennervate!" he repeated, a little more meaning behind his voice. Again, James's wilted body did not respond.

"Yeh'll not get any response, lad," a gruff voice emerged from behind him. Wand still drawn Sirius turned quickly, not loosening his grasp on his dearly departed friend. He relaxed somewhat when he recognised the face belonging to the voice and wiped his tears on the back of his hand.

"Hagrid," he murmured, not quite sure what to say to him.

"Come on, he'll not hear yeh where he's gone," Hagrid reasoned soothingly, his own face damp with tears. Sirius looked up at him from watery eyes, the tears begging for release.

"I can't leave him," Sirius whispered.

"He's already left, Sirius," said Hagrid, his voiced quavering as he bent down to pry James from Sirius's grasp, "Medi-Wizards are on the way ter deal wi' him an' Lily."

"Lily?" Sirius whispered, curiosity outweighing the dread steadily increasing within him.

"Aye," Hagrid sighed, his heart heavy at the sight of this dishevelled wreck of a man before him. He would certainly take the death the hardest and Hagrid needed to be strong for his sake.

"We cannot leave them in here!" Sirius screamed, "These are my best friends, you don't honestly expect me to leave their bodies in here. What if… What if…"

"Sirius, yeh need t'listen, an' listen good, 'cause we don' have much time. This place is goin' t'fall ter pieces. Now, Lily and James are in a bet'er place. Wha's left here is on'y their bodies. Not their souls. Where they are they can' feel any pain. They left emp'y shells behind 'em, the greater an' more importan' part is safe."

Sirius remained unmovable, his breath ragged and wet. He hoped beyond hope that he would wake up from this nightmare and James and Lily would be well and happy. He surveyed James; his hair messy, knotted slightly with a small amount of blood by his temple. His usually bright, happy eyes were shut; he looked like he was merely sleeping. His lips were dry and no breath separated them. Sirius watched his chest and prayed that it would start to rise and fall and give him life but no such thing happened.

A fresh wave of tears spilled onto Sirius's cheeks as he slowly released James's body from his grasp. He lay James gently on the ground where he found him, dug his head into his chest once more. Sirius relented to his emotions and cried as his heart hung heavy with grief. He inhaled a shuddering breath and released James's hand from the grasp he didn't know he had. Sirius looked at him one last lingering time, cupped his face in his hands and said his goodbyes.

"Why did you go without me, James? What am I going to do without you? We were never supposed to go anywhere without each other. You left me alone here and I will never forgive you for that!" he forced out a small, choked laugh and spoke slowly, "I have never been any good without you, mate. You were my partner in crime, but you were also my stronghold, my rock. You were better than me, thanks to Lily in no small part, I'm sure. You always had my back, were always on my side. I will never be the same without you, mate."

He paused, collecting his thoughts and composed himself before giving James one last hug, "This is all my fault. I can't believe I got us all into this mess. I'm sorry."

Sirius allowed Hagrid to lift him to his feet and steer him out of the door and into the garden. The house was too dangerous to stay in and they were not to move the bodies of the dead. Only when Hagrid had placed Sirius on the garden wall did he notice the bundle in his arms.

"Harry," Sirius mumbled throatily.

"Yeh, the little tyke made quite the racket when I picked 'im up!" Hagrid cooed, tickling Harry under his chin. Harry gurgled and giggled and made Sirius's heart lurch - how could he understand what happened, he was only a baby. Sirius fixed Harry with his tearful gaze and he felt a new emotion surfacing. 

"What happened to him?" he whispered, his voice shaking with anger.

"Don' seem t'bother 'im very much, t'be hones'" Hagrid replied, pointing at the fresh cut slashed across Harry's forehead, "He cried at firs', bu' it isn' botherin' 'im anymore. Wha's amazin' is tha' tha's the worst of it."

Sirius bore his gaze into Hagrid, but his silence urged him to continue.

"Yeh know why 'e was 'ere tonigh', don' ya Sirius?" Hagrid questioned. There was no need to elaborate on whom they were talking about, there was only one capable of such destruction. Voldemort.

"He was 'ere t'get our Harry, bu' somehow, 'e failed, didn' 'e?"

Sirius stared directly ahead at the crumbling ruins of his former home. He was fighting internally from rushing into its fiery depths, letting it engulf him entirely to replace the grief and sorrow that gripped his chest. It took the determination of every fibre of his being to stop him from running to James and Lily and dragging them out. No one would be able to survive from the smoky vestiges of that house. A rafter from the roof of the house crashed onto the floor of the upper level, making a resounding bang echo through the neighbourhood. Sirius leapt from his place, screaming for his friends as a strong hand held him back and forced him down. Sirius fell to a crumpled pile on the hard earth, his view obscured by smoke and tears.

"Where is Lily?" Sirius asked of Hagrid, "She should be with James. Where is her body?"

"Sirius, yeh can' move 'em. Lily's body is up in 'Arry's room, an' hers isn' the on'y one."

"What do you mean?" Sirius exclaimed.

"Well, like I 'd been sayin', You-Know-Who was 'ere to get Harry. Bu' as yeh can see, Harry is alive and well, 'e survived wit' on'y a cut on 'is forehead. You-Know-Who's body is up there in Harry's room, Harry somehow done away wi' him."

This information took a long time to sink in with Sirius. He held his arms out to Hagrid and he passed Harry to him. Harry's eyes lit up instantly on seeing his beloved godfather and he beamed up at him, incoherent ramblings emitting from his tiny mouth. Sirius smiled sadly at the little boy in his arms and his heart plummeted as he glanced into his eyes - Lily's eyes. He wondered if Harry would hold her gifts, if he would have the same command of rare magic she possessed. Or would he be more like James? He certainly was cut out of his old man. Would he be courageous, loyal and smart? He contemplated that it would be his duty to raise Harry as his own son now that his parents were dead. He was his godfather, after all. 'I hope he is more like his parents than me,' he thought to himself, his heart aching on the thought of poor Harry, never really getting to know his parents. 'I wonder will he remember them at all? I suppose not, he is only a baby. I'll talk about them everyday to him, through me he will have a family.'

Medi-Wizards arrived at that moment. Sirius felt as though an eternity had passed, but it had in reality only been a matter of minutes. They charged into the relics of their home and returned moments later levitating three limp bodies. Sirius could barely support himself, let alone Harry, so he passed the child back to Hagrid and watched as two of his best friends were pronounced dead at the scene and lifted into body bags. Sirius howled as they were driven away, but paused as he looked at the third body.

Funny how death can take away your fears. Had Sirius seen this man hours earlier he would have been too terrified to speak. Looking at him now, lifeless and pale, frankly he looked a little old and weak. Harry yawned quietly in Hagrid's arms, drawing Sirius's attention back onto him.

"Hagrid, perhaps I should take Harry? I am his godfather, after all. We could go and stay with Remus for a while, until I restore the place my Uncle Alphard left me in his will," said Sirius, in an attempt to be strong for his godson. Hagrid contemplated this for a moment before answering.

"Well, I'm on special business fer Dumbledore, Sirius, 'e sent me an Owl not long ago telling' me t' come here an' bring Harry to 'im. 'No exceptions,' he said. Otherwise I would, bu' I'm sure yeh could talk ter Dumbledore yerself."  
"Oh," Sirius responded, crestfallen. They sat in silence a while, the fire from the house extinguished by specialists that arrived with the Medi-Wizards. The smell of damp soot filled their nostrils and the distant sound of celebrations hit their ears.

"A momentous night, I suppose," Sirius mused quietly, "the Dark Lord defeated. By Harry Potter, no less. How is it that he survived the curse when every other fully grown Wizard perished? He is going to be famous, don't you think? 'The Boy Who Lived'."

Hagrid chuckled quietly as he rose with Harry in his arms.

"I'd best be off wit' 'The Boy Who Lived,' wouldn' wan' t' keep Dumbledore waitin'. It's goin' t' be a long walk."

Sirius watched Hagrid walk a few paces before he turned to speak.

"D'yeh know wha' I don' understand," Hagrid pondered outloud, "Is how You-Know-Who even found 'em. Dumbledore didn' tell me much, bu' who on earth would do this ter Lily and James?" Hagrid cried, whipping out a large handkerchief and blowing his nose. Hagrid had always been a close friend of the family, had always been so kind to them all in school. He never imagined in a million years that anyone would want to harm them. Comprehension dawned on Sirius, as he watched the giant of a man sob over the loss of Lily and James, he decided what needed to be done.

"Take my bike, I don't like the thought of Harry getting cold from such a long walk," he said crisply while removing his leather jacket and wrapping Harry in it, "I won't be needing it."

"Are yeh sure, Sirius, yeh love tha' bike," Hagrid asked in a surprised tone.

"I won't be needing it, Hagrid, and you have always admired it. Take it as a gesture of my thanks for taking care of Harry," Sirius said with a sigh, running his fingers gently through his godson's soft hair. Hagrid mounted the bike as Sirius muttered an incantation to make sure Harry was safely secured to Hagrid. Hagrid revved the bikes engine and kicked off from the ground, flying quickly into the night sky.

Sirius felt the numbness encompassing his body be replaced with white-hot anger. His body shook with rage and he yelled as he quickly transformed into a great black dog and pounded the pavement with his paws, running as fast as the wind.

A distinct shuffle of leaves was the only clue of his apparation. In order not to arouse suspicion he quickly transformed into the great black shabby dog 'Snuffles.' Sirius didn't know how long he had been walking, but the harsh, unforgiving glare of daylight had replaced the kind understanding of the inky darkness that best suited his mood. A plethora of emotions surged through his body, each of them fighting to expel themselves, but the most powerful feeling Sirius could muster at the moment was anger.

Peter Pettigrew sold them out. Sirius couldn't fathom why Peter would hurt Lily and James. He was responsible for their deaths and was now going to assume their fate. Peter had been their friend for so many years, and Sirius was vexed that he didn't see this coming sooner. Poor whimpering, sniveling, wimpy Pettigrew. Who would have suspected him of being capable of such a crime?

Sirius found himself in Trafalgar Square in London. Peter hadn't counted on Voldemort's failure, he was sure of it. And if Sirius learned anything from befriending that pathetic excuse for a Wizard it was that he was probably heading for their hideout. He would get the train to Hogsmeade and find Peter in the Shrieking Shack, he would get his revenge.

Unbeknownst to Sirius, he would not have to wait that long. Peter Pettigrew stuck out like a sore thumb. Ahead of him, on the packed street right here in London, Peter was to be seen scampering towards the Leaky Cauldron. Peter had his hand on the door of the pub when Sirius seized his opportunity and sent a hex right his way, blood now flowing heavily from a large gash in Peter's outstretched hand. Peter screamed loudly as he saw Sirius bounding towards him, bowling him over. Sirius sat on Peter's chest, pinning his arms to his side as he punched him repeatedly.

"You were their friend!" Sirius yelled, as his fist made contact with Peter's nose, shattering it instantly, "And you betrayed them! Why Peter? What did they do to you?"

Sirius didn't allow Peter to answer as he rose from his position and quickly drew his wand, ignoring the horrified gasps of onlookers who were transfixed at what they were seeing, flouting the rules for using magic in front of Muggles.

"Infindo!" Sirius bellowed, as a large gash ripped Peter's chest where James had cut him not all that long ago. He bled anew, as Sirius shouted "Suffodio," and more cuts formed on Peter's body. Blood was flowing heavily from him now, as he swayed on his feet. It seemed as though he was at death's door; he was losing blood at such an alarming rate that he took his only opportunity to save himself.

"How could you Sirius?" he screamed for the whole street to hear, drawing the attention of the customers of the Leaky Cauldron to pour onto the street, "Lily and James were our friends and you killed them! How could you sell them out to the Dark Lord? MURDERER! CREMABILIS FATALIS!"

Sirius stood baffled for a moment as the words hit him - what Peter didn't know was that these were his own thoughts exactly. If he hadn't had been such a coward and agreed to be secret keeper himself, none of them would be in this mess now. It was in this moment's self-pity that Peter did something to utterly bewilder Sirius. Peter lifted his wand and with his last ounce of energy shouted a spell powerful enough to cause an eruption up the street, slaughtering many innocent bystanders in its wake.

When the dust settled, Sirius scanned the crowds for Peter quickly, but all to be seen was a pile of blood stained robes. Survivors of the attack were screaming and pointing at him as Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad turned up promptly at the scene. Cornelius Fudge, Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes quickly assessed the damage - the carnage of dozens of muggle victims, the many others maimed, and there in a large crater in the middle of the street, stood Sirius Black with his wand drawn.

"Expelliarmus!" Cornelius shouted and Sirius's wand went flying into the air, "Sirius Black, you are under arrest for mass murder and for assisting He Who Must Not Be Named in his attempts to kill Harry Potter, and for killing his parents, Lily and James Potter."

Sirius sank to his knees, all hope lost. The impact of the past few days events streamed in front of him; the prophecy, the Fidelius charm, Lily's vision, James dead, Lily dead, their home in ruins, Harry with a large cut in his forehead, the glint of madness in Peter's eyes as he performed the spell - and now he was to take the blame for it all. Hit Wizards came up behind him and pushed him forcefully to the ground. Sirius's skin grazed on rubble and gritted against his teeth. He could vaguely hear their voices from far away telling him he was going straight to prison for being in league with Lord Voldemort, for being responsible for the deaths of those he loved and that his life as he knew it was over. In a matter of hours his world had fallen to pieces, and all he could do was laugh. The pressure of everything landing on his shoulders finally made him snap, and he laughed as he was hauled away by the Squad and was thrown into Azkaban prison to rot away for the remainder of his days. But there was one glimmer of happiness that Sirius could hold on to - he had achieved his aim, Peter Pettigrew was dead. He had avenged his friend's deaths and Harry would be safe from ever falling into Peter's slimy grasp. Harry would live. That was all that mattered.


	7. Remus Lupin: Epilogue

An Epilogue for Remus

A fresh blanket of powdery white snow lay undisturbed on the ground, blessing all that it touched with an essence of purity, of innocence.Accompanying it was a bitter, yet gentle November wind that whipped through the snow-capped trees, soft flakes falling from the heavy load the leaves held. Far away in the distance, a faint laughter could be heard. There had been constant celebrations these past couple of weeks as Wizards the world over breathed a sigh of relief. The world was happy; the world was safe, all thanks to The Boy Who Lived.

Somewhere along the way, those who did not live were almost forgotten. Not that they could be eliminated from memory entirely; their contribution to events had left them little more than heroes. The unfortunate truth in the matter was that even though there had been casualties, those were not the main focus of anybody's attention. Anybody, save one.

A young man stood silently atop the hill on which stood a graveyard. He had been standing there for a very long time, seemingly collecting his thoughts. His breathing was slow and steady as the quickly fading light of the cold November sun sent shadows across his young, yet aged face. He had the look of a person who was not well taken care of. Tiny scars littered his face and shades of grey sprouted through his soft brown hair. His teeth chattered slightly and he rubbed his hands together vigorously, blowing on them occasionally. Otherwise, he was immovable, his glance fixed directly ahead of him. Where he looked, the earth was unsettled, large bunches of white lilies, yellow roses and pink carnations covered the freshly tilled soil beneath a thin layer of snow.

Remus Lupin came to pay his respects. After a particularly gruesome werewolf transformation this past Halloween night, he had been in no condition to leave his humble home. Remus winced as he thought of the nasty bite he had acquired on his chest that had resulted in him losing a large quantity of blood. All to be seen now was just a large bruised area. He had initially been outraged with his friends when they didn't arrive as usual on the night of the full moon, but when he heard about all that had happened, his outrage was quickly replaced by another range of emotions - grief, sadness, misery, and loneliness. Furthermore, when he was ordered to stay in St Mungo's these past two weeks, his heartache deepened. Not only had he not been around to aid his friends in their hour of need, he was in no able position to attend their funeral. He had, of course, attempted to leave the hospital but in doing so only worsened his condition, delaying his release until that very day.

Remus took a steadying breath that shook in his chest as he lifted his eyes from the spray of flowers to the headstone seated firmly above them. His eyes stung as they read the inscription emblazoned on its cool stone surface:

_Here lies James Harold Potter,  
June 13th 1960 - October 31st 1981  
And his beloved wife, Lily Beth (Evans)Potter,  
August 9th 1960 - October 31st 1981  
Sadly Missed by their son, Harry James, family and friends.  
'Rid of the world's injustice, and their pain,  
they rest at last beneath God's veil of blue:  
Taken from life when life and love were new'_

Seeing their names etched in stone made the untimely demise of Lily and James true. Remus had refused to believe it until he saw it with his own eyes, however blurry his vision was. He rubbed his eyes roughly with his freezing hands. He came here to make his peace and he would not break down until he had done so.

"Oh, my friends," he began, "I don't want to think that any of this is real. It's all so unfair. I had known there was a spy in our midst but never in a million years did I believe it to be Sirius."

He stopped talking here when he noticed he had hissed Sirius's name through gritted teeth and his hands were instinctively balled into fists.

"You should be glad to know he will never leave Azkaban prison. He will rot there for what he did to you both. He will never harm Harry, not so long as I am around, at any rate."

Harry - poor, innocent child, so many had spent the preceding weeks in his adulation, though few had realized he was the greatest victim in this most tragic event. He may have survived the attack with little more than a scratch on his forehead, but he had lost considerably more. He lost his loving family, his home where he was doted on by all who knew him and was happy. Where he lived now, he was unwanted and unloved. He had lost a great deal. Remus could relate to that sense of loss - he had lost all of his friends in a heartbeat. Peter, Lily and James were all killed at the hands of Sirius. Voldemort may have held the wand, but Sirius was responsible.

Remus pushed his bitterness aside for the time being and continued to speak as though this were a normal visit.

"Harry is living with your sister, Lily. I begged Dumbledore to relinquish him into my care but he wouldn't. I suspect it has more than a little to do with my 'condition,' although Dumbledore insists he has his reasons. Well, Harry may not be in my care but I assure you I check on him frequently. Not that anyone knows; I just make it my business to pass by the house repeatedly. I think that fat lump of a muggle is on to me, but he doesn't seem like one of keen intellect."

Remus stood silently a while, listening to the shuffle of leaves as the wind picked up. He kept his eyes low not only because of the glare of the sun on the snow blinding him, but he feared the ever-welling tears' repeated attempts to overflow would be victorious. What was he doing here, chatting to a mound of earth as if everything was perfect in the world?

"Lily, I miss you so much. You were the truest friend I ever had the honour of having. You were the only one who didn't see a monster in me, the only one who tried effortlessly to separate the real me from that beast I become once a month. Who am I to find now to help as you did?" Remus cursed himself for his selfishness, but his newfound loneliness overrode his guilt as he continued, "I cannot imagine having to live without your support. You were always at hand to nurse me better after my transformations. No one has ever cared for me as you did. You know, you were the first person to discover my condition? Could never get anything past you, even as a first year! I thought I would have had at least three years peace before people started to figure it out. Your reaction was nothing like the others; there was no fear, no revulsion, just patience, understanding and empathy. You were beyond doubt the most wonderful of my friends. I always thought you were too good for this place. An angel like you.," Remus choked on the words, "I suppose you are where you belong now, with the other angels."

Remus lifted his hands to his eyes in an effort to stem the steady flow of hot tears trickling steadily onto his cold cheeks. He sniffed and gasped for breath as emotion took him over.

"I will always love you, Lily, not as James did, obviously, but as the single most beautiful person to ever endure my company and for seeing me for who I am and not what I am. For that I thank you, but I will never forgive you for leaving me here alone."

His gaze rested on the headstone before him once more, reading with obscured vision, _'Taken from life when life and love were new.'_

"Why, in the name of all things sacred, did you two of all people have to endure such a fate? Your life together was only just beginning," he wailed, "You promised that I would be the godfather of your next child, remember? I was so jealous of Sirius but at the time it seemed you had both made the right choice. Who would have thought."

"You didn't deserve this fate. None of us did. Peter received an posthumous Order of Merlin, little thanks for what happened to him. Cornelius Fudge came to deliver the news to me while I was recovering. He told me all they found of him was a finger. Sirius obliterated him! I always knew he had a mean streak from those pranks he pulled in school but never would I have thought he would be capable of such a gruesome act. Peter was distraught; he was only trying to honour you both. He should never have gone after Sirius, but Lord knows I would have done the same thing. Any of the Marauders would."

Remus raised a shaking hand and ran it through his hair as he remembered the effort James had gone through to make sure Remus felt as normal as possible in school. It was James's idea to learn to be Animagi and he campaigned tirelessly with Sirius and Peter to do the extra work for him. Sirius agreed almost instantly, of course, but he wouldn't have come up with the idea without James. James was always the brains of the operation.

"Don't think you are getting away without a mention, you sly dog," he whispered quietly, his voice hoarse and scratchy, "Lily may have been my best friend, but you were my Marauder, my stronghold. I don't think I could have endured all those transformations in school on my own. It was a very brave and foolish thing you did, risking your neck once a month just so I wasn't lonely. Foolish it may have been, but all the same I couldn't be more grateful. You helped me keep some mind of my own and someone to joke about it with. You really lightened a grim situation. You always had a way of making a person feel that everything's not lost when hope is naught but a distant glimmer."

Remus reminisced the times he felt down and out and James came along with a grin and a twinkle in his eye and proved him wrong. "You made me feel that I could do almost anything. I thought my life was pointless, that I would never get anywhere and that no one would ever want anything to do with me but you showed me how to be strong. You gave me hope. I made plans because of you, James."

Remus sighed a heavy sigh at the thought of all he had wished to do, all hopeless now. He was without friends and in a moment of unscheduled self-pity, he wondered what on earth he did to deserve such torture.

"I remember you were the first person to ever speak to me in Hogwarts. You took me under your wing from day one and never let me out of your sight. I can't believe how gullible you were, my pathetic excuses for absence actually convinced you," he laughed a short, hollow laugh, "I'm a bit old to be making new friends, Prongs. I didn't plan on you going anywhere. You were always around."

His grief got its way at last and Remus succumbed to the ever-growing sadness that renewed itself with every slow beat of his heart. He fell to his knees, the damp snow crunching beneath him and soaking through his jeans. Angry, heartfelt sobs choked their way through and worsened when Remus remembered there was no one around to comfort him.

The sun had set now and left an icy coldness in its twilight. The new moon ambled across the sky and the royal blue sky was punctuated with tiny glistening lights shining from eons ago. The twittering of sparrows was replaced by the hooting of owls, a gentle wind breezed passed Remus, causing him to pull his tattered robes closer around him. A single fresh snowflake danced on the breeze and landed itself onto Remus' hand. His breathing slowed as he calmed himself and slowly lifted his gaze to the fathomless sky to see a faint scattering of snow falling slowly to the earth below. He sighed a quavering heart-wrenching breath as he reached inside his robes and took from it a single star gazer lily, Lily's favourite flower. He placed it gently on the base of the headstone, his fingers stopping to trace their names. A lone tear escaped as he said goodbye, promising to visit often. He stood slowly, his weary body reluctant to move quickly. He hitched up the collar of his robes around his neck, shoved his hands into his pockets and walked slowly away from the final resting place of the best friends he ever knew.

It's beginning to snow again. The flakes, silver and dark are falling obliquely against the lamplight. It's probably snowing all over the island - on the central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly on the graveyards, on the crosses and headstones, upon all the living... and the dead.


End file.
